


The Diego Diaries: A Transformer Story

by arctapus



Series: The final version of The Diego Diaries, a humongous series [1]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Drama, F/F, F/M, Humor, M/M, Multi, epic in scope and length, world building
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:41:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 357,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24409768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arctapus/pseuds/arctapus
Summary: This is the first book of what is now seven. I have it here already and if I can drop that one in favor of this, I will. Its a world building, reclamation of culture and planet, family retrieving epic of gigantic hoo-haw. Cybertronian football, basketball, prank warring, kids, bonds and fragging around, titanic mechs and micro-mini-cons ... all of it was pillaged for your reading pleasure. :D:D  You're welcome.
Relationships: Ironhide/Ratchet, Jetta/Elita, Magnus/Arcee, Prime/Prowl, many others - Relationship
Series: The final version of The Diego Diaries, a humongous series [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1762750
Comments: 6
Kudos: 5





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a story of the Transformers a decade in the making. This crosses all universes and includes elements from both cartoon versions of this fandom and the movie verse, too. It starts with a prank war between Ironhide and Ratchet, spans outward. It is a reclamation of a culture, a people and comes to include all the possibilities of life once lived on Cybertron including Cybertronian football.
> 
> Yes, I said Cybertronian football.
> 
> Consider Prime standing on a hill side at the end of the Transformers, the first movie ...
> 
> Prime speaks of unity, honor and family. Then he puts out a call to the universe for all Autobots wherever they may be ...
> 
> “Come to me.”
> 
> And they do.
> 
> And so do the refugees that hear him. 
> 
> They come, too.
> 
> Millions and millions and millions of them …
> 
> And the Decepticons. 
> 
> Them, too.
> 
> Those guys.

**The Diego Diaries, A Transformers Story: Book one**

Prologue

This is a story of the Transformers a decade in the making. This crosses all universes and includes elements from both cartoon versions of this fandom and the movie verse, too. It starts with a prank war between Ironhide and Ratchet, spans outward. It is a reclamation of a culture, a people and comes to include all the possibilities of life once lived on Cybertron including Cybertronian football.

Yes, I said Cybertronian football.

Consider Prime standing on a hill side at the end of the Transformers, the first movie ...

Prime speaks of unity, honor and family. Then he puts out a call to the universe for all Autobots wherever they may be ...

“Come to me.”

And they do.

And so do the refugees that hear him.

They come, too.

Millions and millions and millions of them …

And the Decepticons.

Them, too.

Those guys.

**THE DIEGO DIARIES: A TRANSFORMER STORY, BOOK ONE**

**THE DIEGO DIARIES: A Transformer Story**

Chapter 1

It all begins ...

  
  


-0-Diego Garcia, Indian Ocean, Earth

The rain was falling in torrents onto the roof of the hangar from the monsoon overhead, sheets of it for days and Ironhide was bored out of his processor. Out on the vast tarmac, crews still worked, planes still came and went, ad nausea. Nothing else was different. However, if you didn't have to leave your shelter all was reasonably good.

But for the humidity. That wasn't good.

Occasionally an organic would come out of a hangar or building and run as fast as they could to wherever they were going, some even carrying shelters over them as they did. He considered the word for them, umbrella; it seemed an almost unspeakable set of syllables for his Cybertronian pie hole and while he mused on things he was only dimly aware of something moving behind him.

"There you are."

He would have sighed if he could have. He stood as quietly as he could trying to be invisible. "Humph."

"Don't humph me, bad boy," Ratchet said moving to stand next to his prey.

"Bad boy?" Ironhide asked glancing at the smirking figure beside him. He accessed the internet, the multiple possibilities for such a remark presenting themselves. "Bad boy as in 'good boy'? Bad boy as in 'amazing and tremendous'?"

"No, 'bad boy' as in **bad** boy. I've been looking for you for a while," Ratchet said folding his arms across his chassis. "You're overdue."

"Maybe you better check yourself. I've been here all along. Could be, Ratchet, you need a long internal diagnostic," Ironhide said concluding that the 'concern' in his voice fooled no one.

"I think we did that last night," Ratchet said smirking at his bond. "I didn't hear complaints then."

Ironhide snorted. "No. You were adequate."

Ratchet moved to stand in front of Ironhide unconcerned that water was now pounding on his back and aft. "Adequate?"

Ironhide with devilment rising in his processor smirked with a sense of doom. "Adequate."

"Ah," Ratchet said as water began to run over his helm and down his face and shoulders as he straightened, his body language defensive and calculating at the same time. It put Ironhide on alert, this mix of hell and hellisher. "I give you the best vorns of my life and all you can say is 'adequate'?"

"I'm not complaining," Ironhide said smirking slightly.

"Well, since we're grading performance," Ratchet said moving slightly closer. "I think you need a few upgrades, Ironhide. I find that there are certain performance levels that could use a bit of enhancement."

"Such as?" Ironhide asked with slight offense ghosting in his remarks.

"You squeak."

Ironhide stared at Ratchet, his optics searching his bond's face for the punch line. There wasn't one. "I squeak."

"You **squeak**. Get to Med Bay and don't make me have to come find you again." Ratchet with satisfaction on his face walked inside leaving a perturbed quizzical Ironhide behind.

Ironhide stood in the doorway ruminating on himself. He didn't hear the voice below calling out to him. Will Lennox with a raincoat held over his head stood below looking up at the distracted figure looming in the doorway. **"Ironhide!"**

Startled out of his thoughts, Ironhide looked below. "Will Lennox," he said, his mud-flavored voice acknowledging the human at last.

Will shook his raincoat and folded it as his gaze looked upward again. "What's up, Ironhide? You look distracted."

Ironhide stared at him for a moment, considering something. "May I ask you a question?"

"Sure," Will replied as a grin formed on his face. When Ironhide asked a question it could be and always was just about anything, half the time something hilarious. "Ask away."

He considered Lennox for a moment, then leaned down slightly. "Do I squeak?"

-0-A few breems later

He sat on the med berth with jacks and wires poked into him as if he was a switchboard at a telephone station from the 1930's. He sat restlessly with an expression of exasperation on his face as Ratchet ran an in-depth exploration of his internal and external fitness. The medic murmured to himself taking notes on datapads, subspacing and retrieving a number of them as he mused on Ironhide. Glancing up, their eyes meeting, Ratchet smiled. This was his domain, the place from which great kingdoms rose or fell. He could ground even Prime if he felt it was warranted. "Quit fidgeting."

"I'm not fidgeting," Ironhide said fidgeting. "I think the humans have too many words."

Ratchet snorted. "They have words for their words."

Ironhide nodded. "Perceptive of you."

Ratchet glanced up smirking. "How perceptive of * **you** *."

Ironhide considering the smugness with which Ratchet was conducting himself once more felt the slight of their different educational attainments as a graduate of a university as opposed to someone who took the military academy route.

Ratchet was the best medical mechanic ever produced by Cybertron's university system and he was a warrior who though he attended great universities graduated from the military academy, a totally different intellectual route to adulthood, though both were cunning, intellectual and sneaky. One studied a more diverse list of subjects, read different books and had different experiences, such as labs and the like. He himself? He learned a great deal especially about blowing the slag out of things. Albeit, he was the most feared warrior in the Autobot Army but nonetheless he was a soldier first, last and always. "Indubitably," he said turning his eyes to stare at the hallway where a couple of mechs were standing by the door waiting their turn.

"Ah, you've been frolicking in the fields of the internet once again finding new and totally amazing sounding human words," Ratchet said as a smile formed on his face. "Tilt your helm."

"I do **not** frolic. **I AM IRONHIDE! DESTROYER OF WORLDS, SLAG IT!"** he said. Ironhide tilted his head and another jack was inserted causing a buzz in his processor that tingled all the way to his lip features. He touched them then scowled at Ratchet. "That makes my lips tingle."

"I know something else that does," Ratchet said softly as he waggled his optical ridges at his partner.

Ironhide felt himself grinning in spite of himself. "You're feeling frisky?"

"I have my moments," he said even more quietly. He glanced at the door, then back at Ironhide. "I'd show you if there wasn't a line waiting for me."

"That sounds suggestive," Ironhide said smirking with amusement.

Ratchet thought a moment, then snorted. Glancing back at the doorway, then toward Ironhide, he smiled. "I guess it pays to advertise. Sit up straight."

Ironhide straightened and fell silent as Ratchet took his arm and began to raise, lower and rotate it, watching the socket's performance as he did. "It works."

"That's for **me** to say," Ratchet said laying it back down to walk to the other side. He took that arm and began to do the same.

"Am I done?" Ironhide asked with exasperation.

"No," Ratchet said putting down that arm to write notes on a datapad he had lying on the med bed. He began to pull plugs out of Ironhide's body, then closing panels on his neck, arms and in the middle of his chest. " **Now** you are."

Ironhide grunted then slid to his feet. "About time," he said.

"I don't tell you **your** job, don't tell me **mine**. Go, blow something up."

Ironhide grinned at Ratchet then nodded with a jaunty air. "Think I will." He walked to the door then paused. Glancing back at Ratchet he smirked at the mechs waiting. "Enjoy," he said. Then he walked out the door.

Ratchet watched him go, pleased that he was functioning above 98%. It was in the range he labored long and hard to maintain for Ironhide. Old slagger, Ratchet thought as he called the next victim to come forward.

-0-Shooting range

Ironhide walked to the firing line passing sailors and soldiers, marines, air men and women with the odd civilian who compromised many nations of this planet. The crowds were out in force to watch the bots as they always were, his figure included. This base was top secret and their presence here highly guarded. They were ultimately the greatest show on base, a place of great isolation in the middle of the big Indian Ocean. He arrived, then set down his latest configuration of ammo samples as off duty humans congregated around to watch.

He had decided to find a way to pierce armor more completely and his incendiary cartridges were a new mix. As he did, a number of organic soldiers watched him pausing from their own shooting to see what he would do. Ironhide's idea of blowing things up was only just this side of the Apocalypse for the soldiers that shared range space with him. As such, he was a god in the warrior pantheon they all worshiped.

They noted his massive size, the ease of his movements in spite of his frame, the concentration he gave to his art and knew from watching training that his size belied the agility that he brought to combat. He could jump, spin and land on his big old peds with a facility that even younger bots lacked. They knew he was the Master of the Autobot Armed Forces and a trainer's trainer. He also was a hilarious mech with a pug nose, huge canons that he lavished love on and a humorous wit that he didn't hide.

He considered a cartridge, then loaded it along with several others. He was in the zone, his element, so with barely a nod to the others, he concerned himself with what he was doing. Round after round he fired, the explosions becoming more accurate and finely tuned as he calibrated his weapons for the new mixture. He wasn't particularly paying attention to the others until he heard Ratchet's name mentioned. Without watching them he dialed in his audials to listen.

"I can't imagine it. It would be like two trains running into each other."

There was laughter at the remark, then he blew something up so they paused to watch. After a round or two, they began again.

"Ratchet's a gruff old guy, one of those "you kids get off my lawn" sorts of personalities. I can't imagine how they got together. And what’s **that** all about? Last time I heard they were both guys. Mech means 'guy' doesn't it?"

"It does. But then, I don't see any girls here. Maybe they don't have them."

"I'd **HATE** that, man. **No women?! What the hell?** "

"I hear ya. Maybe they don't need that. Maybe they're more machine than ... I don't know ... maybe their needs aren't the same."

“We can’t look at them and make them human. They’re aliens from another world. What they are is who they are. Just … don’t let that talk get around. Lennox will round file you and you’d be out.”

“I’m not saying I won’t work with them. I like them. They’re amazing. But … this is weird. Don’t you think its weird?”

“For a bot or a human? They’re aliens, dude. Remember that. They don’t have to be like us or us like them. Get over it. I don’t know if they’re dudes. Someone told me they’re androgynous. They don’t care one way or the other about gender.”

"Then I'm glad I'm a human."

There was general agreement among the most vocal of them and they were about to continue speaking when Ironhide 'accidentally' dropped a cartridge their direction. It hit the ground, a huge cylinder filled with death rolling their way causing them to run as fast as they could. He watched at them with amusement and satisfaction and when they stopped, turning back to stare at him with fear and exasperation he smiled slightly. "Fire in the hole," was all he said.

-0-Later that day

Will Lennox and Robert Epps finished their last briefings then walked together across the wet tarmac toward the Autobot complex. Underground chambers had been cleared and remodeled to accommodate the living and working space of Autobots ranging in size from sixteen to nearly thirty feet. It was diplomatic space, no humans allowed to enter unless invited. It was their private sanctuary although some organics, Lennox and Epps for instance were given carte blanche to come and go.

Semper fi. Dude.

Entering the main above ground hangar, crossing the expanse toward their Ops Center, they spotted Ironhide. He was walking toward the Ops Center himself and when they called to him he halted to wait. Reaching him, they waited as he leaned down to open his big servo. Both of them climbed on board so he arose to walk once more for the Ops Center.

"You're quiet," Lennox said looking up at Ironhide.

"You're not," Ironhide said noncommittally.

They rode in silence into the Operational Center where Ironhide put them down on the center table of the operation with all the maps and other devices they used to track bad guys. Moving to peer at the long range sensor screens that monitored movements in the solar system beyond Earth, he scanned them for action. Nothing much was happening but for a small comet that had finally wend its way here after a hundred years of being elsewhere.

"Nothing going on today, Ironhide," Sideswipe said.

Ironhide grunted. "Sounds acceptable. Boring but acceptable."

Will and Robert grinned at the big bluff mech who was clearly bored out of his exoskeleton. "You off?"

Ironhide looked at them, puzzling the question, then assumed they meant was he free, not was he crazy. "Yes."

"We'd like to talk to you. Privately," Lennox added.

Ironhide looked at them, then glanced around. Holding out his hand they climbed. He walked past Prowl who was bending over a station in deep conversation with Smokescreen. They wandered out, down the corridor to the open hangar and onward toward the doorway. He put them on the ground, then hunkered down bringing himself closer to eye level. "Is this adequate?"

"Yeah," Will replied suddenly nervous. "Uh, Ironhide, I have some questions I want to ask you to clear up something in my head."

"Your processor is bothering you," Ironhide replied, his optics direct and intense as he watched both of them 'fidget'. ***That*** is fidgeting Ratchet, he thought. "What is it?"

Will gulped then looked at Epps who was looking at a fascinating crack in the concrete floor. Will swallowed and raised his hands placating whomever he could though it wasn’t necessary. Yet. "I don't want to pry and I know that if you think I was you would tell me that I didn't need to know what I'm asking and I know you know how much I respect all of you, especially you, Ironhide."

"You sound like Bluestreak. What is it?"

For a moment, Will stared at him earnestly. Then he asked. "What is the thing between you and Ratchet?"

  
  


Chapter 2

  
  


-0-At the base on Diego Garcia, confabbing ...

"Thing? What thing, William Lennox?" Ironhide asked, more than just a little aware of what the soldier was trying to find out. He would make them work for it, the slaggers. **THEY WERE ALIENS! NOT HUMANS! THEIR WIRING WAS DIFFERENT!**

Mostly.

Will shrugged. "I was wondering ... I heard a few of the men talking about you and Ratchet and I was wondering ... that is, I was wanting to know ... " He glanced at Epps who blinked with elevated stress levels as he watched Lennox before glancing away. He frowned slightly. "That is, ***Epps*** was wondering. Ask him, Bobby."

Epps glanced sharply at Lennox, his eyes round with surprise and fear. "You're the leader. ***Lead*."**

Lennox put his hands on his hips as he glared at someone who was supposed to be a close and dear friend and brother. " **You** brought the question to **me**."

Ironhide glanced from one to the other as they argued, mildly amused at the fuss but concerned at the same time. They were getting closer to details that meant nothing among the bots but were flash points in some if not all the human cultures. No one among the organics knew much about the personal relationships among the Autobots and they kept it that way. Most of them like his own with Ratchet were not exactly welcomed in their society, especially among the military. "Is there a question?"

They glared at each other then looked up at Ironhide parsing his face as they searched for anything that would indicate amusement or at the very least a lack of irritation.

Lennox sighed as defeat settled on his fine features. "I would like to know if you're willing to tell me about the relationship you have with Ratchet. What I'm wanting to know … **not for prurient reasons you understand** ... I know when something's not my business. I'm just wanting to know … **for myself** that is, so that I can be more … efficient. Yes, efficient in my leadership. Of men. The men." He stumbled to the end oozing angst as he sighed deeply in his embarrassment.

"My relationship with Ratchet," Ironhide said musing on the millenniums of time that encompassed. "What part of my relationship do you wish to know? He's our chief medic, our comrade-at-arms. There's many sides to our relationship." He was going to make them work for it.

Will rubbed his face with his hands, his normally even complexion paling under the stress of the moment. "I guess, Ironhide, what I'm asking is if you and Ratchet, that is, you and Ratchet … are you in a personal relationship?"

Ironhide looked at them for a moment, his expression one of thoughtfulness. "Yes."

The two men considered that reply silently. Then they both released the breath they were holding. "Well, that's … that's all, I guess. Thank you, Ironhide."

Ironhide looked at them a moment without expression finding in their unease both a sense of amusement and irritation. For a moment he considered walking away, then he changed his mind. They were small and young. It was time that the elders of their profession taught them a lesson. "May I ask why you're interested in this, Will Lennox?"

Will shrugged then brought his hands up slightly defensively, his expression one of embarrassed confusion. "Actually, Ironhide, the men are talking about it. They're curious. I want to make sure that respect is maintained between you and us, that’s all."

Ironhide shook his head as he pondered the U.S. military's lack of maturity in the area of certain personal relationships as he considered his options. He could school them on the lack of gender hang ups the Transformers had acquired over millions of years, multiple non-sexual manners of reproduction and the severe scarcity of femmes making such concerns moot, the lack of a defining gender among them at all ... or he could kick their afts. He chose the latter. "Ratchet and I are in a bonded relationship. There's more I could tell you, things that are intensely important but I don't know that you'd be able to keep the secret. That's how important it is."

Will nodded. "I understand."

"We keep a lot of secrets, Ironhide," Bobby Epps said biting the bait, glancing at Will as he spoke.

Will's expression turned downward at the exact moment Epps went up.

Epps smiled at Ironhide. "I don't expect you to tell us anything, Ironhide, but I want you to know that if you ever have to confide, your secrets go to the grave with us."

Ironhide pretended to mull this over, turning his head this way and that as if deep in thought. Then he nodded. "That's good to know, Sergeant Epps. The burdens are heavy. Perhaps ... "

Lennox who was bursting at the seams to ask dozens and dozens of his own questions made one more trip to the well of his conscience and took a deep gulp. "You aren't under any obligation, Ironhide, to breach a confidence or to confide in us."

"I realize that but I'm swayed by Sergeant Epps. Mech can talk." He straightened up to look around with a conspiratorial glance, then bent down at last to put his big servo out. They startled, then moved forward to sit on it as Ironhide arose, then walked out of the doorway and across the tarmac to an empty hangar. He looked this way and that as if seeking spies.

By the time they reached the hangar the rain was falling again slightly, the hammering of it on the tin roof pleasant to ears and audials alike. Ironhide put them down, then walked to the door peering out dramatically this way and that. Then he turned back to them regarding the two men quietly. Moving toward them, he hunkered down, looking at both with a solemn optic. "You must swear **never** to breathe a word I tell you to **anyone**."

They both nodded, Epps and Lennox crossing their hearts, heads bobbing in agreement as they shifted back and forth on their feet in nervous agitation. Their eyes never left Ironhide's face and it was with effort that Ironhide controlled his mirth. "Well then. I'll tell you what you must **never** transmit to another living soul, that’s how important to everyone’s security that what I tell you is."

They nodded again nearly bursting at the seams with nervous energy.

"Ratchet and I are bonded. Have been forever since Primus was a pup. What most people **don't** know ... what **no one** really knows ... " He looked around again, then fixed a steady optic on the two men. "Optimus Prime is our son."

The room was silent as the two men froze, their jaws falling open in surprise. They stood like statues, then Will swallowed hard. "Your son? You and Ratchet? You have a * **son***? ***Optimus***?"

Ironhide straightened, then turned away for a moment making an effort to control himself as he pretended to look around for spies. Then he turned back again hunkering down on a knee assembly. "Yes," he said considering his joke. "We actually have several kids."

"You ***do*?"** Will asked blinking with surprise. "More than ***one***?"

"Sure," Ironhide said pausing to consider how big his court-martial charges would be if he included grandchildren. "Ratchet, he's quite the brooder."

Epps gasped then put his hand over his face to cover his eyes.

Will swallowed hard as he nodded. "Well, thank you, Ironhide. We'll keep your secret, I promise you."

"I knew you would, William. I'm sure that Optimus and Bumblebee would be glad to know that you're keeping the family secret."

"Bumblebee?" Epps asked looking up with startled surprise.

"Grandchildren," Ironhide replied with a proud smile.

The two men stared at him, then made their excuses, slipping out of the hangar together.

Ironhide walked to the door to watch them go as the rain began to fall harder as they fled. Then he walked back inside and laughed himself half to death.

-0-Med Bay, later on

"You said ***** **what***?" Ratchet stared at him, his optics wide, his mouth hanging open.

"You heard me." Ironhide smirked, feeling pretty well pleased with himself. It had been a prank worthy of Sideswipe and Sunstreaker. And the best part of it all was they were sworn to keep the 'secret'.

Of course being the contrarian that he was and bearing a healthy dosage of propriety, Ratchet was scandalized.

That he hadn't thought of it himself.

"You told him that Optimus was our son and that Bumblebee was our … what's the word you said?"

"Grandchild."

"Grandchild?" Ratchet said looking at him with astonishment. "We don't even **have** children let alone grandchildren."

"We didn't before but we do now. I told them we have several."

Ratchet stared at him as visions of courts-martial hearings and summary executions flitting across his processor. Then his expression changed as other images filled his thoughts as well. "We don't have children, Ironhide. We don't have them or grandchildren and at this rate we never will."

The change in atmosphere almost wrenched Ironhide's head off. He looked up at Ratchet, putting down the incomprehensible tool he’d picked up that was lying on a table near Ratchet's desk. Staring at the medic more closely, he tried to decipher Ratchet's expression. He was gazing at Ironhide with a mix of sadness and something else. Then it changed to one more familiar. He shifted to face Ratchet in a more defensive posture, his optics wary and the urge to flee rising in him. "Ratchet? You have that look."

"What look?" Ratchet asked as a thin humorless smile formed on his lips. "Actually, Ironhide, you fill me with ideas."

"Oh, no you don't," he said turning to walk to the door. A wench flying silently through the air clanked on his shoulder. He turned back to face a fully roused medic.

"Oh, yes, Ironhide. You brought it up. You have to deal."

With that the big front liner fled like the wind.

-0-Late that evening outside the hangar gazing at the stars

"You are still up?"

The deep sonorous tenor of Optimus Prime jolted Ironhide out of his thoughts. He turned to Prime as he schooled his face not to grin then nodded. "Can't recharge."

"That is where I am heading," Optimus said pausing to stare at the night sky again. "More are coming."

"I know. I'm pleased," Ironhide said. "Feels more like home when they come."

"It would feel more like home with children," Optimus proffered, his gaze fixed on the break in the clouds and the light of a big full moon.

Ironhide glanced at Optimus with startled optics. “Children? What have you heard about them?"

Optimus glanced at Ironhide as a strange look came over his face. "Nothing. What have **you** heard?"

"Nothing," Ironhide said turning to gaze at the moon. "Nice moon."

Optimus glanced at Ironhide wondering what was going through that mech's processor. Then he turned back to the scene ahead of him and grinned slightly. "Home is where your family is. Our family is coming, Ironhide."

Ironhide smiled and nodded, unaware how true those innocent words of encouragement actually were.

Optimus nodded then moved off to walk toward the hangar where home and berth were. "Good night, Optimus."

"Goodnight, Ironhide."

The night was quiet and the moon was full as Ironhide stood by the door watching the sky. The rain was finally stopping.

Chapter 3

-0-Around the town

Prowl walked into Med Bay, a datapad in his servo and a question in his mind. Three new mechs had arrived the night before and an even dozen were on their way today. More were sending messages ahead and the excitement in the ranks was increasing as Autobots long lost to the wind were flying this way in their transitional formats. He paused to look around, his door wings fluttering as he considered a number of tasks all at the same time. Ratchet was bent over a computer terminal researching something that he could only guess. "Ratchet?" he asked, his cultured educated tenor soft and low.

Ratchet looked up with surprise, then moved quickly to stand between Prowl and the screen. "Prowl. What can I do for you?" A big smile formed on his face, a big insincere appearing smile.

Prowl considered the odd brief interaction but said nothing. Sometimes the medic was beyond his processor. "I'd like to know when you'll have the medical reports on our newcomers ready and also, I'd like to know what you might need, if anything, for the ones on their way?”

Ratchet considered that then smiled. "I think we're up to it unless they come dismantled and shipped by UPS."

A brief moment passed as Prowl accessed the proper interpretations, then a small smile formed on his handsome face. "Indeed," he said softly. "Thank you, Ratchet." With that he turned to go, then paused again. "I **will** expect the reports."

"You **will** have them, Prowler," Ratchet said continuing to smile as Prowl walked out the door. As soon as he was gone so was Ratchet's smile. Then he turned back and began his researching once again.

-0-On a plane back to Diego Garcia from the operational field overseas, night time the next day

Ironhide awoke from recharge, the turbulence disturbing not only his rest but that of the other Autobots in the plane.

:Bluestreak, are you awake?: Sunstreaker's voice whispered over their internal link stirring a number of others who were hanging on the cusp of recharging.

:Sunny?: the gunner whispered. :Everyone is recharging:

:Everyone **was** : Mirage's refined tones reached everyone in the group as the organics sat dozing obliviously nearby.

:You sound aggravated, Mirage: Sideswipe said. :I figured you'd have all the rest you wanted out in space. Don't tell me you're losing your step:

An elegant snort was all he deigned for response and as they flew onward Mirage began to ask questions. :The organics ... they fight rather well:

: **I** think they do. What do you think, Sunny?: Blue asked, his cheerful youthful voice a balm to everyone's audials.

:I don't care for them. Ask Sideswipe. They get in my way:

:I like them. Epps is a good warrior. He's got guts: Sideswipe began.

The conversation continued as Ironhide listened with half an audial. He found himself concentrating on his bond link to Ratchet, on the secretive actions and pointed, even heated gazes that Ratchet had been giving him since his little prank. On the firing range and on the field, the soldiers were just as dedicated and respectful to him now. It made that moment seem a lapse. But then he was aware that they wouldn’t be so bold as to challenge him or insult his family to his face. He would have to have another conversation with the soldiers.

They weren't humans, his people.

Their actions, beliefs, relationships or not, actions and mores were theirs honed over a million, million years of culture, experience, travel, thought and necessity. They were made this way on another planet in another solar system under different circumstances of evolution. They were who they were and they weren't humans. Nothing they did was for anyone but themselves and the sooner humans learned that they weren't the end all and be all of species, the better it would be for everyone. It was the main reason they kept their personal lives and how they lived and thought mostly to themselves.

He replayed the conversation with Optimus again and again, the expression on his face and his remarks about babies nervous making. Ratchet had also taken up the moment and was gyrating off into some sort of direction he couldn't figure out, probably making traps in his lab just for Ironhide. The prank was brilliant but it was sparking off in a lot of directions he didn't count on.

Sparking.

Poor choice of words, Ironhide, he said to himself. The odd feeling of sneaky subversion that filtered through their bond, a bond that he’d noticed was tamped down at different times of the orbital cycle he might add was making him nervous. Ratchet was up to something and he dreaded what it might mean to their easy-going unencumbered lifestyle.

The transport continued onward drawing them closer to Diego Garcia and the comforts and eccentricities of home.

-0-That night, Diego Garcia, British Indian Ocean

They arrived just as the sun was setting on the horizon, the shimmering sea a wonderful utterly alien sight to the Transformers. An ocean of water that covered so much of the world, that was brand new and many of them spent time looking at and wandering around its sparkling edges. There were seas on Cybertron ... Mithril, Rust and Mercury but nothing of this size and grandeur. Ironhide drove off the plane, the muggy warmth of the night welcomed after the cold snowy taiga of Russia. He moved slowly forward transforming at the door of the hangar that led to their personal spaces.

Nodding goodnight to one and all, he trudged sleepily down the broad corridor that led into the underground installation. His quarters, a shared personal space with Ratchet was at the end of the two lane road that once was occupied with delivery trucks bringing supplies to the various great underground rooms and hangars that held stores for this outpost. He found his door and gathered himself, opening their bonding link just a fraction to gauge what was on Ratchet's processor. Recharge reached him so he relaxed, punching in his code to open the door.

It was dark but he could see Ratchet's form in the dimness reclining on the berth. Carefully removing his cannons and other pieces and parts of his personal arsenal he walked over and peered down. Ratchet was offline, his face gentle and youthful in repose. Ironhide smiled, the same flutter rising in his spark as it did the first time he decided they were 'meant for each other'.

-Way the frag long ago

"You've got to be kidding," Ratchet said as he labored deep in the workings of Ironhide's knee assembly.

"Nope," Ironhide said biting on his lower lip as Ratchet tightened the last nut into place. The medic straightened, regarding Ironhide with a level appraising gaze. He grinned. "I'll tell you what, Ironhide," he began. "If you pass inspection in the sack then you have a deal."

Ironhide, no newcomer to the ball, blinked from the brazen calculation of the offer. Then he grinned. "Sold."

That night had been a barn burner and they’d clenched the deal, a deal that would span the lifetime of some stars and would land them here on an alien world with alien hosts fighting the same old slag as ever.

He smiled and with as much effort to be careful and quiet as a mech his size could muster, Ironhide lay down on his side of the heavily steel reinforced berth. He lay still, waiting on his side for a moment. Then as if programmed, Ratchet turned on his side and spooned directly behind him. /...You're putty in my hands.../ Ironhide thought to himself with a sigh of massive contentment.

Ratchet awake and aware that Ironhide had come back smiled slightly. "Hey, bad boy. I see you made it."

Ironhide started a moment, then relaxed. "We all did. No injuries."

"I know. I'm still here aren't I," Ratchet murmured as his servos stroked Ironhide's arm. They traced circles in his armor sliding down the brawny slope of his shoulder, then slid along his waist to rest on his hip.

Ironhide lying without a movement considered this opening gambit. It seemed that Ratchet was goading him into doing something he was too tired for once to attempt. "You lost something, Ratchet?"

Ratchet's smile dimmed a moment as he considered the odd question. "What?"

"Your servo. I was wondering what you were looking for," Ironhide said as a small smile quirked on his face.

A tight grip on his hip elicited the correct amount of painful yelping from Ironhide as Ratchet pinched the wiring underneath the armor plating on Ironhide's hip. "You sure know how to ruin the mood."

"I don't have a mood, Ratchet. I'm hardly awake. The younglings talked on the plane ride all the way back. It's hard to threaten someone when you're tied down under a net."

"I don't like those travel arrangements."

"You and me both," Ironhide said grasping Ratchet's servo, pulling it and his arm more tightly around himself. Ratchet, thwarted, snuggled against Ironhide as he schemed. "Ironhide?"

"What?" he asked simulating fatigue in his voice.

"I was wondering "

The words hung in the air.

"Ironhide?"

"What?" he answered again, smiling in spite of himself.

"I was thinking about what you said to the soldiers, what we talked about."

It was silent a moment. Ratchet peered up and over Ironhide's broad frame. He could see Ironhide's optics and they were offline. He lay back wondering if the big black mech was pulling his leg. Then he smiled. What a stupid expression he thought even as he quelled the urge to pull Ironhide's leg off and club him with it. He snuggled closer and closed his optics redrawing his plans for victory even as recharge claimed him again.

-0-Ops Center, Autobot Barracks around the same time

Prowl glanced up as Optimus Prime entered the command deck smiling back at him with weary optics. The huge mech took a seat and stretched. "Welcome back, sir," Prowl said.

"Thank you, Prowl," he replied. "Anything happening that can't wait until tomorrow?"

"No. We have an ETA for the next ten bots coming in tomorrow at 1400 hours our time."

"Good," Optimus said with a smile. "What a change. More Autobots in than we can almost use."

Prowl chuckled softly. "True. Such a dilemma."

He grinned as he admired the clean crisp beauty of his sub-commander. "Well, if that is all, I will go recharge."

"Actually," Prowl began as the small nagging moment with Ratchet crept back upon him once more. "Ratchet."

Prime considered that remark. "Acting oddly, giving Ironhide strange looks especially when he is not looking."

Prowl nodded. "Yes. It's odd. I know you're close to Ironhide and I wondered unless it's a personal matter if you thought something was wrong between them."

"I hope not," Prime said worried. "I am not aware of any difficulties but you know those two. They would never tell each other let alone anyone else."

"Do you think they might need an intervention, someone to go speak with them that might help them through whatever difficulty they might be facing?"

"Perhaps," Prime considered. "Let me think about it and watch them for a few days. If nothing comes up on radar we may have some relaxation coming."

"Most overdue, sir. I would suggest that you take advantage of that, too. I can handle some of the more mundane meetings and record others," Prowl said, his no nonsense expression falling into place.

Prime grinned as he rose. No Nonsense Prowl was one of his favorites. Unless he was Angry Prowl then stay away from tables. "Comm me if you need me. I am going to recharge."

"I will," Prowl said rising, too. "Good night, sir."

"Good night, Prowl," Prime said with a warm smile. He turned away, feeling the mech's gaze upon him and when he reached the door he looked back. Prowl was back to work once more making the plates spin. You may suggest whatever you wish, Prowler, Optimus thought as he finally tore himself away to walk to his quarters to recharge.

  
  


Chapter 4

=0=The next morning in the Rec Room inside the embassy

Ironhide sat in the Rec Room with a cube of energon in his big fist. Around him speaking with excited chatter the other mechs took their morning sustenance as they discussed the newcomers arriving that afternoon. Some of them were coming off shift, others were getting ready to go and some had the day off like Ironhide.

Prime had just left having sat down beside him, his kindly optics burning a hole through the guilty aura that suffused Ironhide whenever the big mech came around lately. He didn't regret his joke. That was one for the record books. If you couldn’t joke in the army you had no business in the army.

Semper fi. Slaggers.

What Ironhide hated was getting caught so he perfected his innocent optics look for not only Ratchet and oddly enough Prowl, but for the Prime also.

He shook his head. Life was getting complicated.

However, nothing was more complicated at the moment than the brooding medic that sat across from him. Ratchet gazed at him, his optics never leaving Ironhide's face as he sipped his energon, the wheels turning so obviously that even an oblivious mech like Ironhide could see them spin. Ratchet was up to no good.

"Uh, Ratchet? You all right?" he asked considering that he had to make some conversation since Ratchet hadn't spoken a word since sitting down. In fact, when they on-lined and moved around to get ready for the day Ratchet was silent then as well. It was foreboding.

Deeply.

"I'm fine," Ratchet said, his vocal intonation colored with darkness.

Ironhide paused his cube halfway to his mouth, gazing at Ratchet as he calculated what new tactic the big mech was trying on him now. "You sound odd."

"Odd?" Ratchet asked as his voice rose with emotion.

Mechs sitting nearby paused their conversations, then glanced at them.

Ironhide whose optics flared in surprise leaned forward trying to shush his bond.

Ratchet leaned forward, too, his optics filled with agitated emotion. **"Odd!?"** he asked louder.

The room stilled with every bot including a startled Prowl turning to stare at them.

Ironhide glancing sideways to notice this wished for a moment that the floor would open up and he could fall in. He looked at Ratchet with the air of a desperate mech. "Ratchet, lower your voice."

" **Why**?" Ratchet asked as his voice carried from the Rec Room to the hallway nearby.

Ironhide knew that because several mechs including Bluestreak and the twins peered in, their optics wide with curiosity. "Why should I lower my voice? Why, Ironhide, should I do ***anything*** anymore?"

"Oh Primus," Ironhide whispered as he gripped his cube wincing deeply in embarrassment. It went over his helm that he still could after all this time. "Let's go some place and talk about this, okay?"

"Some place ***else*?"** Ratchet asked, his voice at a level that could not be denied. "Why not ***here*?** Why not let the ***entire base*** know about our business? A fat lot ***you*** care."

Ironhide stared at Ratchet as his processor bordered on the fritz. He looked at his hand and the crushed energon cube therein. He put it on the table watching as it unfolded itself again, forming a perfect cube. It reminded him of the box he currently was in, crushed but yearning to be square once more. He looked at Ratchet catching the look of triumph on his face before he quickly returned to tragic. He felt a brittle smirk form on his lips as he recognized the challenge thrown down before him in this, the most public place for Autobots anywhere on base. Ratchet was making a very public statement piece of his position. "So you want to play **this** game do you," he said in a low voice.

Ratchet leaned forward. "En garde, you slagger," Ratchet replied as he arose. He downed his cube then tossed it on the table as he stared at Ironhide with a calculating expression. "You're on," he said quietly. Then he walked away with an expression of tremendous (fake) hurt schooled on his face.

Ironhide watched him leave, admiring Ratchet's gall and the determined swish of his aft, then felt it, the combined silence and intense optics of the entire room square upon him. He glanced around taking in the shocked faces and wide optics of everyone he knew. Then he leaned back gathering himself. "What the frag are ***you*** looking at?" he growled.

The entire room jerked a moment, then settled back, the buzz of conversation returning albeit muted.

Ironhide sat on his chair considering his options, then arose to down his energon. He took his cube and Ratchet's to the recycler, dropped them in, then walked out ignoring everyone in the room.

Every optic followed him and when he was safely out of earshot the room exploded in speculation.

Just as Ratchet knew it would.

And just as Ironhide knew that Ratchet knew that it would.

First round to Ratchet, Ironhide thought as he walked to the firing range to blow up everything he could find that even remotely qualified as a target.

=0=Ops Center

"He ***did*?"**

Prowl nodded.

 **"*He*** did, ***too*?"**

Prowl nodded again.

Prime shook his head as he considered the possibilities.

Prowl watched him with his tanks in turmoil. "Should I speak with Ratchet?" he asked.

Prime considered that option, the two hardheaded personalities involved, then nodded negatively. "I think its going to take someone with a Matrix to approach those two and not lose a limb. I do not think I like the idea of you ducking wrenches or worse," Optimus said with a small grin.

A corresponding small grin formed on Prowl's lips in response.

Optimus squelched the desire to explore it with his tongue. "I will talk to them first. Then if reinforcements are needed I will comm you."

Prowl chuckled softly as he shook his head. "It feels like my genitors are fighting."

"Did they?" Prime asked as the first real personal revelation from Prowl was filed away in his data banks for later scrutiny.

"No, actually," Prowl offered sheepishly, thinking back to a quiet cold childhood. "They considered that lower class." He shrugged with a helpless look on his face.

Prime squelched his libidinous programming once more.

"They were silent when they were angry. I would've preferred it if they actually argued but they never did. At least not in front of me."

A pang crossed Prime's processor and he stilled his arm as the need to caress Prowl's face arose in him. "Mine argued. Not often but it was interesting when they did. I will talk to Ratchet. Ironhide is on the firing range. I will let him bleed off a little malice before I approach him."

Prowl nodded, watching as Prime arose and walked to the door. He admired the grace of such a big mech, the subtlety of his movements, then he quashed that before his romantic subroutines overtook his sense. With a slight grin he turned back to work.

=0=Med Bay

Prime peeked his head around the corner warily seeking Ratchet's position before advancing, perhaps under fire.

Ratchet sensing someone behind him turned around from a tray of implements and grinned. "Hello, Optimus. You can enter. I'm not at war with you."

Optimus entered warily as he considered the comment. "You're at war with Ironhide."

He nodded. "Yes. The old fragger started it and I don't intend to lose."

Prime nodded. "Given that when you two war we are all collateral damage, I do not suppose you want to share the problem with me."

Ratchet glanced at him and chuckled. "You might not want to hear what I have to say.”

"Try me," Optimus said as he walked to the med bed and hopped up to relax as he considered Ratchet's mood.

Ratchet stared at Prime considering what he understood about the good natured dignified mech. Then he smiled. "You have to promise me that you won't tell Ironhide what I tell you. He'll be, um, he'll be unhappy to say the least."

Optimus considered that, the smile Ratchet had on his face and the number of other times that the two had torn up the world with their personal 'wars' that always seemed to collect victims in the ranks. He nodded. "Alright. Shoot."

Ratchet accessed that remark then smirked. "Apropos for Ironhide," he snorted. Then he considered Prime. "Did you know that you were our son, Ironhide and me?"

Prime blinked with surprise as a smirk appeared in the corner of his mouth. "Who did he tell that whopper?"

"The soldiers."

Prime considered the effect on the morale of the soldiers and did the math. He took the delicate ties they had with the organics, timed it by the number of idiot civilians that had a hand in the way things were run, divided it by the intense emotional regard he had for both Ratchet and Ironhide, then finally squared it by the totality of the frag he didn't care. Then he smiled. "He did, the slagger?"

Ratchet nodded, grinning with a certain amount of pride in the sheer audacity of his bond. "He did."

They were silent a moment, then Ratchet dropped the other shoe. "By the way, we have a grandchild, too."

"Grandchild?" Optimus asked as his optics lit up with mirth like a fog light on a freeway.

Ratchet nodded. "Bumblebee. Oh, and you have several siblings to be named later."

Prime considered that, then he exploded.

In laughter.

He laughed and laughed, then paused to laugh some more. He wiped his optics and grinned at Ratchet who was standing before him with arms crossed on his chest and a grin of supreme bliss on his face. "So," Prime said settling a moment. "What do you want me to do?"

"Nothing yet," Ratchet said with a big grin. "I've got it firmly under control. I think."

They both laughed together for a while.

=0=Ops Center

Prowl looked up concern on his face as Optimus walked toward him and took a seat next to him. "Did you speak to them?"

"Ratchet," Prime replied. Then he schooled his face to deep concern having made up his mind to teach Ironhide his own lesson. "I am concerned, Prowl."

The look of alarm on Prowl's face almost made Prime waver but he held fast basking in Prowl's beauty as different expressions formed, then fled his usually calm impassive face. Someday he would regret this but not now. He reached over and touched Prowl's hand. "It is all right. I am going to deal with this."

Prowl raised concerned optics then nodded. "Do you think there's anything I can do? I heard them in the Rec Room. I'm not an expert on relationships but it sounded serious."

Warmth suffused Prime's spark as he listened, then he squeezed Prowl's hand. "I will let you know," he said as he arose.

Prowl looked up with a nod and watched as Optimus walked away heading out of the Ops Center to the base beyond. He shook his head and glanced around, turning once more to his job.

Chapter 5

-0-On the line

Ironhide blew up the last possibly definable item on the firing range he could justify. Powering down his weapons, he listened to the general announcement that front liners were given three stellar cycles off from duty pending Decepticon activity. He thought a moment and vented, his systems revving for a moment. He considered three days with Ratchet and nothing to divert either of them from their macabre dance of doom. Turning to go back, grunting at the greeting from a number of organics who called out to him, he trudged depressed and wary toward the Autobot hangars.

Bobby Epps directing the new arrivals to N.E.S.T on the firing range grinned. The goggle-eyed newbies stood around him as they watched the ominous figure of the renowned Ironhide walk past them, all twenty-five feet of his black menacing masculinity reflected on the awed respect on their faces. He was a formidable sight and when he passed far enough away they grouped around their sergeant.

"Whoa." A lieutenant gulped. "Look at the mayhem."

They all noted the profusion of blast holes, scorched marks and broken bits and pieces of stuff now no longer identifiable laying here and there.

"Does he do that a lot?" a corporal asked.

Epps nodded. "He keeps his weapons in shape. He's a pro."

"Is he really as dangerous as he looks?" the lieutenant asked, his expression grave.

Epps considered his words then nodded. "They all are to the Decepticons but they're on our side. These guys are warriors and they've been at this longer than we've been a species. They're true blue, dependable and you don't have to be afraid of them. You just have to give them the respect they've earned and deserve." He paused to look at Ironhide's retreating figure. "Lennox loves him like a brother and so do I. There's Autobots that are **really** dangerous as personalities like Sunstreaker. But they're on our side and they'll fight for you just as we fight for them. Don't ever forget that." He then ordered them to line up and get their weapons ready.

Two of them stared after the big Autobot a moment before getting in line. One of them leaned forward to another who had come with him from the same striker base in America. "Did you notice something, Sam?"

Sam Hedges looked back at his amigo, a big human male named James 'Big Jim' Johnson. "What?"

"There's no women. They have no women among them," Johnson whispered.

Sam Hedges considered that a moment, then nodded. "Weird."

At that moment Epps gave his orders and the group hustled to follow them.

Nearby, halfway to the hangar Ironhide smiled as he listened in. They had better treat us right he pondered even as the comments between the two failed to register on his mind. They would remain on his radar until he figured it out. He would do his slagging job and they would do theirs, giving him the respect as the Master of the Autobot Armed Forces that he deserved. Primus knew that they did that with them. What comes around goes around.

Then he paused to stare at the hangar door and the moody medic hidden somewhere in the depths of the massive structure. He smiled and shook his helm considering that it felt easier right now to face down Starscream unarmed than see his intended and true, the redoubtable Ratchet in this, the beginning stages of one of their epic prank wars. Gathering his internals together he continued onward walking into the hangar with his helm held up.

The trip across the hangar and onward to the road that led inside was fraught with knowing and/or curious looks and whispers among mechs. He ignored them, walking like usual with his optics forward and his cannons within reach. Age had its privileges and he knew if he even glanced at other mechs they would curl up and flee. The Ops Center was the only place on the Autobot schedule that was fully manned and running. He entered then walked to the sensor center to pause beside Jazz.

Jazz glanced up with a chuckle. "Hey, Ironhide. How's the missus?"

Ironhide perused the appropriate language file, then chuckled himself. "I dare you to call Ratchet that to his face."

"I don't have a suicidal tendency in my entire body," Jazz said snorting. "There's nothin' on the radar. You're stuck."

"Frag," Ironhide said. "When I need those fraggin' slaggers they lay low."

"A mech can't win," Jazz said with a grin on his handsome face.

Ironhide nodded. "Slaggin' right," he said turning to go. He paused as he nearly bumped into a concerned Prowl. "Uh, hello, Prowl. Can I do anything for you?"

Prowl shook his head. "No, Ironhide. But if there's anything I can do for **you** , you **know** I will. You just have to ask."

Ironhide blinked, then nodded as he became suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to flee. "Thank you, Prowl," he said moving around the mech, hurrying across the room and out the door. Prowl watched him, then turned with a mournful shake of his head.

Jazz caught him as a frown forming on his face. "What?" he asked.

Prowl debating whether to tell decided to because Jazz was third in command and he needed to know anything that might impinge on their performance capacity.

He was, after all, Prowl.

He leaned down and whispered into Jazz's audials what he had seen, heard and in brief; just the professional concerns Prime had for the two of them and not a thing more personal. He was nothing if not prudent.

He was, after all, Prowl.

"Wha?" Jazz said looking up with surprise and his optics filled with concern.

Prowl nodded. The two of them stood together as expressions of worry and concern highlighted their faces before they went back to work once more.

=0=In the corridors

Ironhide moved along ignoring everyone, then he decided in the middle of the roadway that he had no place to go. Their quarters weren't beckoning. Ratchet would expect him to clean them up as he was the one off duty at that moment. Med Bay had Ratchet and the Rec Room had everyone else. He was trapped without refuge so he stood a moment in a quandary, steaming in the middle of the corridor as everyone walked around him optics averted and peds flying.

He gathered his internals and began a beeline for the Med Bay determined to get the upper hand once more. His internal fortitude began to flag the closer he got so he stood outside shifting from ped to ped wondering to Primus how things could get so slagged. The door was open so he peered around the corner catching sight of First Aid. "Psst."

First Aid looked up, then toward the door catching sight of Ironhide. Fear flashed across his face before disappearing. "Ironhide."

 **"Shhh!"** Ironhide said unconsciously imitating the soldiers he served with. He waved First Aid over.

He came with trepidation informing each ped fall.

"Where's Ratchet?"

"In his office," First Aid replied, the gentle mech nervously twisting his servos.

"What's his mood?"

"Fine. Considering."

"Considering what?" Ironhide asked.

"Considering you're both acting like glitch heads," First Aid offered, boldness overcoming his worry about slagging a front liner.

Ironhide sighed shifting slightly. "I'm going in. If I don't come out in a half a joor send in the troops."

First Aid watched with loathing as Ironhide stepped around him and walked towards Ratchet's door. He turned to look down the hallway for anyone he could use as reinforcements and found no one. "Maybe this will be a good time for a break," he said to no one in particular as he walked out the door.

=0=Nearby

Prime who was musing on the fun and games aka Ironhide v Ratchet chuckled once again. The idea that they were his parents was terribly amusing and even though he felt they would be amazing genitors he remembered his own with love. Bumblebee was in America with Sam and both would be coming out for a short stay in a couple of orns as per orders. Sam was going to be getting his regularly scheduled check up as the living repository of the Allspark. No one knew the long term effects of this situation but they also knew It resided in the boy's subspace with access on occasion to his psyche. They knew but Sam didn't. They had agreed to keep it that way for Sam's own protection. Check ups were a way to make sure all was as well as it could be given the circumstances.

As for the Allspark? It didn't disappear. It transformed.

Prime stood in the sunshine, the rain finally receding and absorbed the sunlight through his solar collectors. The warmth in his spark from the daffy machinations of two of his oldest closest friends was even greater as he thought about how he would even the score with Ironhide, something he seldom was able to do with the cunning older mech. This time, however, he was determined. He already had his plans laid down. He chuckled aloud drawing the attention of a passing clutch of femme organics walking together toward their office complex. They smiled and waved at him. He waved back with a smile, turning to go as he did. He had things to do, he considered. His step was light as he went.

Chapter 6

-0-Med Bay

Ironhide entered Med Bay, moving slowly, his optics peering into every corner and backroom as he inched his way to Ratchet's office. Computers purred as they fed data into the main nexus that was located at Teletraan II, the super computer in Ops Center. It was quiet and things were painfully neat as they prepared for the new Autobots due to arrive in a couple of joors. He caught sight of Ratchet pouring over datapads, his desk cluttered with them. He walked to the door then slowed, unwilling to get within swinging distance of his powerful unpredictable bond. "Ratchet."

"What?" he answered distracted by whatever it was he was reading. Then Ratchet looked up to spot Ironhide. He froze, then picked up a wastebasket and with his arm swept the data pads into it. He stuffed it under his desk. He then rose up, staring at Ironhide as if he did that sort of thing every day. "Ironhide, what can I do for you?"

Ironhide allowed his brow ridges to drop back from the other side of his head from his surprise, then a suspicious expression demanded their co-operation. "Well, for starters you can tell me what ***that*** was all about."

"What?" Ratchet asked, his face a textbook picture of innocence and barely contained competitive battle lust. "What do you need? I have to get ready for incoming."

"I know," Ironhide said moving to the side of Ratchet's desk to glance under the rim at the basket underneath.

Ratchet moved forward placing a servo on Ironhide's chest to push him around the desk and into the far wall. Moving to stand well into Ironhide's personal space, he touched his nose to the big mech's trapping him with his flaming charisma. They stood together nose-to-nose and glared.

For the longest time neither gave an inch, then Ironhide blinked. "What are you meaning to do here, Ratchet, and what's on those datapads?"

"Doctor privilege of some kind," Ratchet said smirking with triumph. "I'll determine what kind when I care more. Until then," he trailed off with a suggestive grin, reaching downward to slip his fingers into Ironhide's armor. He found the seam that never failed and it didn't now as Ironhide's optics involuntarily blinked rapidly as he found his libido programming snapping on with a nearly audible pop.

He reached down to clamp onto Ratchet's servo, pulling it back up as he countered with his own move. He slipped a leg around both of Ratchet's. He trapped the big mech, pulling him in with an arm until he was held fast. "You have to be faster, Ratchet. I have you pinned."

"And you pinned yourself, too," Ratchet said with a grin. "Unless you know how to fly with a mech stuck to your privates." Ratchet reached down with his other servo to grip Ironhide's aft.

Ironhide pondered the truth of those statements, then decided they’d reached impasse. It would require negotiations to see what they could do about resolving their plight. "You need to give me something so I can give you something."

"How about I get my hand back and you get to sleep on the berth tonight."

Ironhide considered that. "I get to anyway."

"Do you think so? A lot can happen to a mech in their recharge."

"That's true," Ironhide considered. "How about I give you back your servo and you put both of them on my aft?"

Ratchet chuckled. "You're a terrible bargainer," he said slipping his other hand onto Ironhide's aft.

"I don't know. I got this far and I'm not complaining," Ironhide said, his low rumbling voice filled with amusement. "What's on the datapads?"

"Nothing you need to know now. A bot has to be allowed to plan their campaign without spies ruining the fun."

"I see," Ironhide said tightening his grip around Ratchet. "I think it would be good strategy for both sides in a war not to get too bitter. That way when one side loses they can live with their defeat."

"I'll hope you don't get too bitter then," Ratchet said moving closer to rub his cheek against Ironhide's. The big mech closed his optics as the feel of Ratchet close to him was as pleasurable and warm as it ever was. He laid his helm on Ratchet's shoulder and for a moment there was no war, only a peaceful truce.

First Aid and Sideswipe stood in the Med Bay peeking at the two as they leaned against the wall silently embracing each other without the slightest animosity. Sunstreaker who was watching over their shoulder shook his head. He pulled the two back, moving out of view but not out of their vantage point as he glanced at his brother. "I'll never understand old mechs."

Sideswipe snorted. "They might be you and Bluestreak some day, Sunny."

"I'll off line myself permanently first," Sunstreaker said shaking his head. "What the frag do you suppose those two are up to?"

"I don't know but the soldiers have a rumor and I can't get anyone to tell me," Sideswipe said.

"Let me try," Sunstreaker said as a wolfish expression informed his features. With that, the twins left.

First Aid watched them go, then decided to leave himself as he noted it was taking an amorous turn in the office. Uncertain whether to stay and pretend he was deaf and blind or leave, he opted to leave.

"They're gone," Ironhide said as his big servo rubbed Ratchet's back gently.

"I know," Ratchet said with a grin. "Ready to resume fire?"

"Probably," Ironhide said with a smirk. "Seen our infant today? I hear the grand kid is coming shortly."

Ratchet grinned, then looked at Ironhide with genuinely loving optics. "You're beyond the ability to shame."

"You're right and you know that you wouldn't have it any other way," Ironhide said smiling with surety.

Ratchet leaned in and kissed Ironhide as the big mech embraced him tightly. "You know," Ironhide said breaking the kiss, "you can tell me what's on your mind and we can settle this like mechs."

"Not on your spark, bad boy," Ratchet said with a feral grin.

Ironhide smiled and kissed Ratchet once more. "Then we're on again?"

"Yes," Ratchet said moving back into swinging range. They stared at each other, then Ironhide made his move. He tried to pass Ratchet but the big mech was faster, reaching under his desk to pull the bin out. They faced each other on either side of the desk feinting this way and that until the klaxon rang. Freezing, they listened as the call for personnel was made because the signal that incoming Autobots were sighted had alerted.

"Saved by the bell," Ratchet said relaxing slightly as he held his wastebasket with a sense of triumph.

" **This** time, Ratchet," Ironhide said walking to the door to go provide security at the landing site. "There's always next time." He strolled out of the room leaving it oddly bereft for Ratchet without him there.

Ratchet smiled. "We'll see, my lovely. The game's afoot and I don't plan to lose." With that, he walked into another room to put the datapads into a hiding place, returning to drop the wastebasket under the corner of his desk. Grabbing a scanner and a small medical pack, he walked out the door.

-0-Nearby at the landing zone

The sky was streaked with incoming as more Autobots found their way to Earth. Ten of them were arcing ground ward and it was almost as if Christmas, Easter and Halloween were wrapped up in one package and delivered albeit postage due at their doorstep.

That is, if Christmas, Easter, and Halloween were Autobot holidays.

Which they weren't.

Yet.

Ironhide stood beside Optimus watching as Autobot after Autobot hit the designated landing zone with almost eerie accuracy. They reformed as their transitional form unwound. They stood up gleaming in the sunlight, their protoforms reflecting a metallic sheen as each was met and escorted to the Autobot hangar complex by another mech. Ratchet was there, too, with First Aid and Hoist. He was supervising the newbies, checking to see if any of them required immediate attention.

Ironhide watched him, an expression of dispassionate disinterest on his face even as he admired the dedication and efficiency of his intimate other half.

Optimus who was considering his options required about three or four of the new mechs, so he looked them over carefully knowing that with the arrival of Bumblebee and Sam shortly that he would be able to twist the knife in a certain mech's back. He grinned at the thought, watching as Springer and Kup materialized in the mix. Perfect, he thought as he watched them walk away with the twins who were overjoyed to see them both.

He stood in the sun greeting each of the mechs as they saw him, feeling light as a feather even as he ran and reran every video clip that he had of Prowl in one corner of his processor. When this was over he was determined this time to plight his troth to the taciturn but comely winged vision of all his more intimate fantasies. Until then he would have to bite his tongue and wait.

Chapter 7

The morning broke at last and the new mechs were greeted and hurrahed into the group. Will Lennox and Robert Epps were called in to meet with them and they brought Niall Graham as well, a Lieutenant from the United Kingdom who had become a mainstay in the human contingent. They sat on top of a table in the conference room and waited, the cacophonous sound of electronic chatter outside the door almost painful to listen to as the Autobots caught up with each other in their common language, NeoCybex.

"Ten more mechs," Niall said walking to the edge of the table to look out through the crack in the door. He saw flashes of colors, different types of mechs with their different types of body configurations and heights. He smiled at the incongruous sight of talking mechanical beings, then walked back to sit on his bench. "This will make it all the more interesting to our guys."

"They need to learn to shut their mouths, too," Epps said as he sat in his chair. "These dudes aren't humans and they can't be judged to our standards. What's right for them is just right."

"Johnson and Hedges?" Niall replied.

"Yeah. I'm just about ready to sign off on them to be cut loose," Lennox said, rising as the door opened and the senior Autobots came in for the weekly staff meeting.

Optimus Prime nodded to them as he entered followed by a sad-looking Prowl. Prowl was hard to read but the overall affect was down turned as Niall glanced at the others for a moment. Jazz, Ironhide, Wheeljack, Ratchet and a new mech who was introduced as Springer entered to take their places around the big conference table.

"Welcome, Will and Robert," Optimus Prime said. "We have a new mech with us. Springer, this is Will Lennox, Captain and field commander of the N.E.S.T. soldiers of Earth here on base who work with us and his second, Sargent Robert Epps. Also with them is a member of the United Kingdom Armed Forces, Lieutenant Niall Graham. Springer is a Wrecker and you can find out more about that from Ironhide as well as Springer later."

The new mech, green and yellow with a big grin and a friendly manner nodded, then glanced at Optimus with the strangest expression. It was a cross between adoration and lust.

Epps blinked and Lennox swallowed.

The other mechs at the table, all of them blinking as well noticed it, too.

Prowl swallowed hard as he stared at the datapad in his servos. He was the only one not to watch.

Optimus on the other hand smiled back giving Springer a lingering look of affection.

It was very silent in the room.

"Well, now that introductions are over let us begin," Optimus said. And they did. It was fast, tension-filled and cleared the decks in record time. After it was all over, the humans walked across the tarmac heading for their own barracks and office complex across the way. It was silent as they walked. Halfway across they stopped together to look back at the Autobot HQ.

Optimus was outside standing in the sunlight with Springer. They were talking together head-to-head in more than just a little intimate manner. Springer moved closer, putting his hand on Optimus' shoulder, then he ran it up and down possessively a couple of times. They chuckled over something, then Optimus nodded, watching as Springer turned to go. Then Springer stopped, returned and gave Optimus a light kiss on the lips. That was when Springer left and that was when the accumulated skulls of the three human soldiers exploded.

-0-Med Bay

Ratchet walked to his desk and sat down to consider the strange behavior of Optimus and Springer, a mech he had known since he was hot headed youngling who wanted to slap Decepticon aft. Optimus and Springer were actually flirting and didn't care who saw it. For a moment, he thought the world had gone mad but then he also remembered that Optimus knew about Ironhide's prank. He sat and thought, tapping his fingers on the top of his desk as a slight smile grew on his face.

Nearby looking through the door, wondering where Ratchet had put the datapads from earlier, Ironhide felt an electrical surge of dread flowing through his chassis as he watched Ratchet sitting at his desk with a smile forming on his lips, his fingers tapping on his desk. It couldn't be good but then nothing was actually going too well right now.

Optimus had actually flirted, ***flirted*** at the staff meeting. It had scandalized all of them and the word had gotten out, ***thank you, Wheeljack*.** Now everyone was pestering him for the 'straight stuff'. He could probably use some of the straight stuff himself and with the Autobot equivalent of a sigh he walked away hoping that Wheeljack had a stash of high octane in the house of horrors he called a lab.

-0-Ops Center

Prowl sat disturbed, bothered, and bewildered by the show Optimus made with Springer. He looked at the pad in his hand and reread it for the fourth time, the words going in one audial and out the other. Moving to sit at Teletraan II, he considered his life so far. He was a catch, he thought. He had skills and gave a nice appearance. But he wasn't social. If he wanted to be brutally honest and he usually was, he was socially inept. In the milieu of his work he was a god, someone who could adapt and come to the peak of whatever part of himself was needed. He could be cold, ruthless, Machiavellian and dangerous to know. But in the realm of romance and interpersonal relationships he was still a sparkling, a youngling geek, a ...

He halted a moment to consider the fifteen thousand words for failure in English alone that his initial internet search had pulled up. That didn't even count the other language databases available. He was a dork in just about one hundred eighty-nine languages and dialects from this world alone and it was a big, big galaxy out there.

He felt it, too.

Optimus Prime had seemed like he was feeling something for him and now he was schmoozing with Springer like a long lost bond. He felt like slag circling the Pit. He put down the datapad wondering if Wheeljack had any high grade stashed in his lab. He could use a stiff one right now and he almost never drank beyond the odd beer or three. Maybe things would be changing as he stared at life alone, a life that spread out before him probably dead ending somewhere around the bend of Alpha Centauri. Even as out of habit he calculated how many light years away that was, he sat with utter dejection and sorrow for a moment. Then Prowl of Praxus went back to the only true blue lover he ever had.

His job.

-0-Cleared to land at Diego Garcia

The plane was circling around for a landing as Sam jolted awake, swaying in the harness that passed for seating on the transport plane. Bumblebee had picked him up at college and drove to the airport and the commercial transport. Good old United Parcel Service, 'Brown', had taken them to Dulles where they caught this army plane for the long haul to Diego Garcia. He was bone tired but Bee wasn't. Bee was actually extremely happy, perhaps even hyper and ready to be among the others at Diego.

"Hey, Bee," Sam said. "We're coming in for a landing."

The Camaro tied down under a net flashed his lights, a happy tune popping up on the radio.

Sam smiled feeling glad that Bee would be around his kind again. He obviously needed the time.

"Sam."

"What, Bee?" Sam replied.

"There's going to be new mechs at Diego."

"Who, do you know?" Sam asked.

"I hear that Springer and Kup are there."

"Who are they?" Sam asked.

"Wreckers," Bee replied. "And Springer, you'll like him a lot.’

"You'll have to introduce me when we get there," Sam replied grinning with pleasure for his car. "I'm glad for you, Bee," he said as an airman strolled back to tell them they were going to be landing. They hunkered down and when the plane taxied to a stop the airman removed the bindings on Bumblebee as Sam climbed in. The Camaro rolling down the ramp when it was down.

Diego Garcia was sunny and warm, the monsoon season almost past when Bee rolled to a stop.

Sam stepped out onto damp asphalt and the greetings of Optimus Prime, Ironhide and a tall green and yellow mech.

Bee transforming with a holler ran toward the mech Sam deduced was Springer, jumping into his arms in his intense joy to see him. The mech laughed and spun Bee around while Optimus beamed as if he had invented the mini-con himself.

Ironhide glancing from Springer to Optimus to Sam and back to Springer had a baffled expression on his face.

Optimus gestured for Sam to step forward and without any hesitation made the introductions. "Sam, this is Springer. Springer, this is Sam." He then switched to Cybertronian a moment. {Sam is the Allspark} "And I believe you know Will Lennox, Robert Epps and Niall Graham, Sam."

Sam nodded, grinning at the soldiers who were sitting on a hummer close-at-hand.

Springer hearing Sam's name and being aware of events in the past became serious instantly as he held Bee like a baby on his hip. He gave a solemn nod. "My pleasure," he said with a nice modulated accent-free masculine voice.

"Nice to meet you, too, Springer," Sam replied. "Bee's been in a tizzy to come here and he’s been happy about more mechs arriving. He even mentioned you."

Bee looked at Sam, his optics glowing as brightly as the big mech who held him. Then Springer smiled looking at Bee like his mother. He kissed Bee on the head.

Sam looked from a beaming Bee to an equally beaming Prime.

Ironhide standing between everyone looked as mixed up as Sam.

Springer smiled at Optimus, his gaze lingering as he did. "It's good to be here with Bumblebee."

"Yes," Optimus said nodding in agreement. "It has been too long. Sam, Springer is Bumblebee's genitor."

Bee hugged Springer's neck as Sam looked at them for a moment without comprehension. "Bee is your youngling, your sparkling then, your son?" Sam asked sputtering through designations as he looked at Springer.

Springer nodded as he kissed Bee's head once again. "Yes, Bumblebee is our son," he said.

Three other mechs stepped from the hangar drawn by the lure of Bee's return and the added mystifying spectacle unfolding before them. Two new mechs and one old one, Hound, Kup and Ratchet stepped up. Another new Autobot, the only femme on base at the moment, Arcee, already was standing behind Optimus. She stepped up with a smile. "Bee's whole family is here, Sam. I'm Arcee."

Sam looked at Arcee dazzled by the idea that Bee who didn't talk about his family much, if at all, had them around him now. "So let me see if I understand you. Springer, you're one of his genitors, his parents."

Springer nodded.

"Who else is family here?" Sam asked closing the loop and putting the cherry right on top of the fragmentation grenade.

"I'm Optimus' sister, Arcee, Bee's aunt. This is Hound, Optimus' and my own younger brother."

The green Autobot smiled at Sam.

"This is Kup," she said. "He's our great grandfather if you will, Springer's grandfather."

Kup grinned as hilarity circled like a comet around his head. "Good to meet the Allspark and any friend of my little great grandson is a friend of mine."

Optimus struggled to keep himself in check as he watched Ironhide's incredulity rise with each revelation.

Ratchet who was standing behind Arcee watched first with surprise, then an almost feral sense of glee. He moved behind Ironhide, stopping to catch him if he glitched which he looked like he would.

" **Wow, Bee!** Your great grandpa, your aunt and uncle," Sam said genuinely happy for the smiling little mini-con held in the arms of one of his genitors. "Who's your other genitor?"

Optimus gathered himself then moved to stand in front of Springer, positioning himself so that Ironhide could see his face as well as the soldiers. He cleared his throat, a thoroughly dramatic and physically nonessential action. "Why, Sam, all his family is here. I am the other genitor of Bumblebee."

The shock on Sam's face was matched only by the shock on the faces of the three soldiers. It was dead silent, then Optimus dropped the coup de grace. "And Bee's grandparents, my own genitors or parents actually are also here." He turned toward Ironhide whose optics were as big as steering wheels. "I know you know them. Meet my mother if you will and father, my genitors, Ironhide and Ratchet."

You could have heard a pin drop. Or better yet you could hear Prowl drop nearby as his processor glitched and he fell over backward to the concrete floor below.

Chapter 8

  
  


-0-Late that night

Ironhide sat on the edge of his berth in the darkness while behind him supposedly recharging was the recumbent form of his dearly beloved, Ratchet. He sat staring into space considering the day's revelations and mentally counting his fingers, checking to make sure that indeed he still had five on each servo. The prank that he’d begun had been a defensive reaction to a slight to Ratchet. He never told that to the big incredulous mech but it was so. He loved Ratchet with all his spark and preferred to show him so rather than sputter through words which were not his long suit.

The prank was amusing, brilliant actually and the soldiers had fallen for it. Yet somehow in some way he couldn't understand clearly it ignited something deeply evil and cunning in the spark of Ratchet then spread in a way he was still trying to figure out to Optimus Prime.

***Optimus Prime*! *A FRAGGIN' PRIME*!**

The slight buzz of processor fritz helped on by copious amounts of high grade ingested from earlier hit him and he relaxed himself, allowing heat to vent as quietly as he could as he tried to calm down. A fraggin' Prime was either pranking his aft back with the help of almost everyone he around him or else he’d stepped into a parallel universe.

The part about genitorhood was a joke, that much Ironhide could parse. Obviously, if they had sparked a Prime, Hound, and Arcee of all things, he would’ve remembered that. He would’ve been there to cheer Ratchet on. He snorted. ***Frag, yeah*** ** **.**** It would be a cold day in the Pit before it would’ve been him carrying anything beyond a laser canon or a cube of high grade. He wasn't built that way, Primus knew. He was Ironhide, berserker front liner, right hand go-to mech of the Prime and all around Chaos Bringer of the Autobots.

He froze as Ratchet stirred then settled, apparently having nightmares of his own. He glanced over appreciating the curve of Ratchet's shoulder and the shadow of his neck, a place Ironhide had spent a lot of time grazing in past encounters with the irascible recipient of his spark's total and completely deep affections. He turned back and considered what could be true. Either he had stumbled onto a deeply held secret that no one had ever heard about and only now the Prime was allowing known or he was pranked down to his peds without spare.

By everyone on base including the most recently arrived today.

It was impossible.

He hoped.

Optimus was a proud mech, someone with almost as much dignity as patience and Primus **knew** he had patience. Yet, would he stoop so low as to resort to a prank, especially one as complicated and huge as this one? Could he have enlisted the aid of Arcee, Hound, Springer, and Bee? Bumblebee, maybe. That little fragger was a great little mech but he was a youngling wiseacre, a prankster of great and longstanding tradition.

Arcee was about his age and would know better. Kup probably **did** believe he was Bee's great grand progenitor, the senile old aft and Hound? He would do this. Hound was funny and loved them all. He would do this for Optimus.

Probably.

Springer.

Spr-ing-er.

Spring. Er.

He thought about the Wrecker, the one truly nonplussing part of the whole thing.

Nonplussing. Nice word, Ironhide said to himself, sidetracking for just a moment. The high grade he had with Prowl and Wheeljack was really kicking his aft. He suppressed a giggle and peered over his shoulder at Ratchet, again noticing no change. Looking back at the far wall once more he struggled to understand how he had suddenly acquired a family from the innocent joke he had perpetuated upon the slaggers at the firing range.

"Ironhide."

He froze. "Ratchet."

"It's late and you're fragged. What have you been doing? You missed the first meal together our family has had in literally vorns."

For a moment, Ironhide ran that remark through his processors, then he gazed down at Ratchet. "Wha?" he managed as his optics flared bright with confusion.

"Our family," Ratchet said irritably. "We had a meal together and you weren't there. I'll tell you again, Ironhide. I'm not going to keep making excuses to the younglings about why you aren't at special occasions."

Ironhide blinked, then he shifted slightly, adjusting his optics to night vision as he searched Ratchet's face for the smirk. There wasn't any. He felt the fritz coming on, then discounted it from his semi-drunken condition. Moving to lie down beside Ratchet, propping himself on his side by his elbow, he stared into Ratchet's apparently angry face.

"You disappointed your grand sparkling. It's been a while since Bumblebee has been able to be here with the family and you weren't there. You disappointed him in front of the Allspark."

Ironhide stared at Ratchet, checking his facial expressions for the slip, the seam, the tell that would give him an opening to the joke but it wasn't there. Ratchet was completely serious. He opened his mouth, then closed it, speechless at that moment. Ratchet shifted himself toward the wall, his back to Ironhide as a storm cloud of irritation hung over his entire form.

Ironhide stared at him, then put a hand on his shoulder.

Ratchet shrugged it off. "I'm angry for Bee and the younglings. I don't think it's a lot to ask, Ironhide, for you to be at the first meal we can have when they've all come together. Arcee is pre-bonded. Did you know that? No, you were getting drunk with Prowl and Wheeljack. You couldn't even be there to see her excitement. Our only femme, our only little girl and you weren't there."

Ironhide felt the doom of Unicron fall over him as he lay back to stare at the ceiling. He would still be in the morning.

-0-Earlier

A call to the many was made by the few. Actually, it was the one and they came happy to see him and gather in his office. Prime smiled and asked them to sit, allowing his inner youngling to emerge. "I am glad you came. I have a proposition to make and I would hope if you did not agree to join this operation you would keep it in the strictest and I mean strictest confidence."

They all agreed. Then he explained the points of the operation, the background bringing laughter like he hadn't heard in his office in many an orn. He grinned, waiting for them to subside. Then he explained his plan, outlining all the mobile and stationary parts, the general stated goals and the predicted endgame they were shooting for. They all listened, grinning with excitement at the prospect of bringing down a formidable foe with teamwork and the Will of Primus. For surely after what Ironhide had done to all of them in a long life of hilarity and pranks, they were owed.

Springer leaning forward asked a few pertinent questions of his own given that he was a leading character in the charades to follow. "How long will this last, will it be culminated by your decision alone or will we all have equal voice in termination? It could be that it's such a great plan that some of us might want to continue to carry it through to the end while others might … how do I put this? Wimp out?" he said trying out a new word from the database he had downloaded into his core data banks.

"He got you good once?" Prime asked.

"Beyond the pale," Springer said.

"Well, I guess we could vote to end it as a committee," Prime speculated.

"That would be great," Hound replied chuckling at a memory. "I love Ironhide but he has payback coming just from me."

"Ironhide has never pranked me," Arcee said with a grin. "I guess he's more of a gentlemen with femmes. But I'm in."

Bumblebee listening over an encrypted comm line chuckled. "You know you can count me in."

"Then we're all in agreement," Prime said glancing at Kup. "Then Operation Frag Ironhide's Aft is to commence tomorrow when Bumblebee arrives. I want everyone on the tarmac when Bee drives up. I want everyone to wait until then to do their part but for you, Springer. We have a weekly meeting with the soldiers tomorrow and you can begin then. They were the spark to ignite this lunacy and they need to be fragged, too."

Everyone rose and left, chuckling at the idea that now they were family and their 'parents' didn't have a slagging clue. Prime sat back incredibly satisfied and as he did he forgot one little item of great importance: Prowl.

-0-Later, the night of Operation Frag Ironhide's Aft

A knock on the door pulled Wheeljack from his reveries as he called out. "Enter."

The door opened as Prowl peeked around tentatively inside. "Wheeljack?" He looked around and saw no one until a sound attracted his attention. A flash of yellow light and a helm peering around a desk drew his optics. "Wheeljack? Are you alright? What are you doing on the floor?"

A bottle materialized upward from behind the desk held in a powerful black servo. "Prowl, get in here. We're tying one on."

"Tying what on, Ironhide?" Prowl asked as he moved to the desk to look down at two drunk mechs sitting side by side on the floor.

"The sweat of Unicron, that's what. Have some," Ironhide said holding out the bottle to Prowl.

Prowl feeling propriety rising took the bottle and felt uncertainty warring with a crushed spark. The crushed spark won so he sat down next to Wheeljack. He sniffed the bottle, the smell a cross between window cleaner and bacon grease. "What's in this?" he asked tentatively taking a sip. He gagged and felt it burn as it slid downward into his fuel tanks.

"You don't want to know. Just know it was made with love, right, Ironhide?" Wheeljack slurred, giggling slightly as he reached for the bottle.

"Don't speak to ***me*** about love," Ironhide bellowed. "I don't have a slaggin' clue about it."

"Nor do I," Prowl replied, his optics filling with coolant as his sorrows rose in his processor. He took back the bottle and drew a long drink, frowning and squinting as it coursed its way downward like a pad of steel wool. Handing the bottle back to Wheeljack who gave it to Ironhide, he leaned back feeling the loosening of his inhibitions as the liquid did its job. "What **is** love anyway?" he asked to no one in particular.

"You give your entire life to a bond and what do you get?" Ironhide asked.

"Don't ask me," Wheeljack said sadly. "I'm all alone."

"You and me, Wheeljack, alone," Prowl said sniffling. He took the bottle and drank another gulp, one so big he almost gagged. He handed it back to Wheeljack who had it until Ironhide grabbed it. "I had ***dreams*,"** Prowl continued. "I had dreams ... ***hopes***. Now? What do I have?"

Both Ironhide and Wheeljack looked at him.

Prowl looked back, his face scrunched in misery.

"What do you have, Prowler?" Ironhide asked gently, passing him the bottle and pulling out another one.

"Nothin'," Prowl slurred as he took another big drink. "I don't have a slaggin' thing."

"I didn't know you swore, Prowl," Wheeljack slurred, suddenly filled with maudlin sorrow for the sad distraught winger.

"I don't. Didn't until now, mostly. My genitors didn't allow it. Did I tell you about them? They wouldn't allow it. Well, guess what?" he said looking at the ceiling for their faces, perhaps.

Wheeljack and Ironhide looked up, too, with their bottles poised at their mouths.

 **"I don't fraggin' care!"** Prowl said grabbing a bottle away from Wheeljack. He looked at the two mechs, one with a bottle and the other searching his hands for the one he thought he just had. "Here's to fraggin' love. Here's to broken dreams and hopes."

Ironhide and Prowl clicked their bottles with Wheeljack reaching, then failing to grab one as the two knocked them back drinking long and deep.

"Here's to a broken spark and to a bond that's a slaggin' traitor," Ironhide said. Then he sniffled. "Here's to a slaggin' treacherous bond that's the bestest old mech in the galaxy. No, the whole universe."

Prowl looked at Ironhide noting that there were two of them now. "And here's to the best fraggin' Prime in the galaxy and whole universe. And the Matrix, too," he said sodden in sadness. "To the best fraggin' two-faced tease that ever lived."

Ironhide thinking he was talking about Ratchet agreed. "I'll drink to that."

Wheeljack who was watching himself with his own despairs on display reached for a bottle, taking the one that Prowl held. "I'll drink to that, too, whatever the frag you're talking about."

And he did.

Chapter 9

-0-In a darkened room near Wheeljack's lab

He sat on the berth clearly listing to one side as he tried to move as his processor circled the outer rings of Saturn. He had never before outside of combat felt so wretched and he could almost remember some of the shenanigans that happened while he took his walk on the wild side. They involved others and he prayed with what little propriety he had left that they were done in a place that wouldn’t have allowed him to be too big a fool.

Fool.

That was what he was, Prowl thought. At least, he thought around the edges of a thought because the idea of actually articulating a full blooded thought made him want to purge his tanks. He wondered in the tattered edges of his sentience how the twins could do this so often and not die.

-0-In a darkened room that was Wheeljack's lab

He came to the surface of a big sea of yellow, his systems caterwauling their extreme displeasure as they did. He licked his lips finding that his tongue felt as big as Sideswipe's basketball. That would not do, Wheeljack thought, then he didn't. It hurt across his circuits down to the energy port that dared not speak its name. Or rather saw little coed use but for a curious owner exerting attention on the odd nights when the moon and a card game weren't enough.

"I must be at the Matrix," Wheeljack whispered, his lights muted in the muddy versions of colors they threw up. Then he turned to the side and actually threw up. It, too, was very colorful.

-0-In a darkened room that wasn't Wheeljack's lab or Prowl's quarters

Ratchet stared down at the silent figure of his dearly beloved and smirked. Ironhide's size, his imposing persona that intimidated everyone but him and his general wonderfulness never failed to tug at his spark. A lot of racy memories flooded upward and he considered that they hadn't 'faced in a while. The thought of it sort of took over his processor for a moment, then the beep of his internal comm line kicked that football into the Pit.

**Beep!**

:What the ***hell*** do you want?:

:You are full of sunshine this morning:

:Oh, good morning, Prime. What can I do for you?:

:I wanted to know how Prowl is now:

Ratchet shook his helm as he listened to the sound in Prime's voice of guilt, a wavering will and an unrequited lust that could peel paint off walls. :He was fine when he left. Don't let it bother you. I'm sure he's up and at 'em just like usual:

:I am sure you are right, Ratchet. I will see you at the staff meeting shortly:

:Oh, count on it: Ratchet said, his voice filled with mirth shaped malice. :Ratchet out:

-0-In a darkened room near Wheeljack's lab

He crawled on his hands and knees to his couch and pulled himself up, every movement of his body jarring the jet plane that was tuning its engines in his processor. He felt his tanks churning and hoped against hope that he wouldn’t upchuck. Of all the nasty things a mech could do, puking on your peds after a night that you couldn't even remember was the lowest.

-0-In a darkened room that was Wheeljack's lab

He looked at the pool of regurgitated energon and high grade, the colors mixing into a pleasing aesthetic even as the smell drove Wheeljack to try to roll over. He did and found himself pinned against the wall, the couch and his worktable leaving him very few options for movement. He looked around then lay his helm back down blinking his bleary optics for a moment. "Look at the dust bunnies," he mused before passing out once more.

-0-In a not so darkened room that wasn't Wheeljack's lab or Prowl's quarters

Ratchet did his best to make as much noise as he could, clanging things together and taking the time to cock and sight down a rifle that heretofore had just been leaning against the wall in the far corner.

Hearing the tumult at last, rising up like a killer whale trying to elude a harpoon, Ironhide bellowed in surprise. Then he wished he hadn't as he fell back down, the struts of the berth groaning under the 4.8 metric tons of his awesomeness. Or at least, that's how Ratchet thought of it.

His awesomeness.

That's what Ironhide meant to Ratchet but he didn't tell him unless he was completely blotto or in the throws of intense facing. Then the words wouldn't stop flowing and he was given to any manner of nonsense. But that was another time and place Ratchet thought as he got his mind off Ironhide's figure and back on the goals at hand.

Right now, messing with the big mech in his condition, a part of him was ashamed. But it was only a small part, the 'doctor do no harm part' and he smiled knowing the power ultimately he had over the big doofus. "Feeling your energon are ya?" Ratchet asked blandly as he folded his arms over his chassis.

An optic ventured to open then shut as Ironhide dealt with the avalanche currently thundering through his processor. He opened his mouth, considered how long he could speak before he ripped his own throat out and began. "You win. Antidote."

Ratchet grinned as he moved closer to peer down into the mass of black metal, armor and fabulousness that was his bond. "What makes you think I'll give you the antidote."

"Because," Ironhide squeezed out, "If I go to the Matrix, you go, too. Deal, old mech. Now."

Ratchet smirked then reached into subspace to pull out a pad. He made a show of reading it, pushing Ironhide as far as he dared, then transformed a digit to push without sparing the pain, a needle into an energon line near his neck. Ironhide grimaced in spite of himself, then the blessed relief came down from Primus. It flooded him with a sense of cooling, with the idea that ‘yes, Ratchet, there will be a tomorrow’ and as it did he felt his libidinous programming perking up. He opened an optic and gave Ratchet a wary glance. "What's with the sexy stuff?" he asked.

Ratchet turned from where he was messing with the table's ubiquitous pile of Ironhide's slag to look at his bond with a quizzical eye. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about all of a sudden I want to interface. Badly. Truly badly."

"Well, Ironhide, I'd love to accommodate you but we have a staff meeting in just a few joors and I don't have time to be your fence post." With that, Ratchet left the room closing the door behind him.

Fence post.

Initiate internet search. Access. Search function: Fence post, noun. Scan of most used definitions. Acquired appropriate information... download initiated. Access concluded.

Fence post. **Ha!**

Ironhide sat up, his head clearing even though his nether regions began to fog over. He moved to rise as a shimmering feeling of lust powered through his core. He sat down afraid to move lest he overload himself before he reached the door. He frowned deeply, his internal chronometer telling him that he had only a half a joor to be on time to the morning senior Autobots staff meeting.

Round two to Ratchet, Ironhide said to himself as he looked down at his crotch area. This was going to be a tough one, he thought. A tough one, indeed.

-0-In a darkened room that was also Wheeljack's lab

He lay on his side sort of wedged into the couch and considered that it could be worse. He could be laying the other way in the middle of his own vomit. The night before was a clouded thing and he didn't try too hard to make it all go away. He just decided that if he went back into a stuperous recharge one of three things would happen. First, someone might miss him and come looking. That was the most likely scenario. Two, he might be able to get up himself and save an Ark load of embarrassment. Not as likely considering his feet felt like they were in another room. Or third, he could be here through the next millennium.

He sniffled.

*I'm alone* he thought as maudlin emotions arose, the echo of that feeling floating to him over the fumes of his own vomit as he unconsciously repeated himself from the night before. He closed his optics and fell into recharge. Or as he later called it, possibility four.

-0-In a cabin that wasn't Wheeljack's lab or Ironhide's den of **"What am I going to do, slag it, Ratchet!"**

Prowl pulled himself up and tottered over to the door. He leaned against it cursing his weakness and neediness. It was all Prime's fault. He’d led him on. Or so he thought. He’d thought he did given the sweetness he’d shown Prowl over the past few orns in particular. Then again he could be deluding himself.

If Prime was bonded, and it appeared he was, then there was no leading going on. It was his own processor running away with him leaving him perched on the lip of the volcano of "Never, No Way, No How." Bumblebee had played that tune earlier and he sort of had it stuck in his processor.

Bumblebee.

Prime's ***son*.**

Arcee, Hound. ***HOUND*** and Kup.

***Kup*!?**

Springer.

Springer was a good looking mech, taller than he was and sort of ultra masculine. He, himself, Prowl thought was more the subtle type. He was a thinker and the Wreckers were maddening doers. The two clashed over tactics. Prowl had them and Springer didn't, usually. All in all, they were total opposites but he’d never not respected in most ways and enjoyed the company of the handsome mech.

Well, maybe not **handsome**. Maybe he was just strong featured and rugged. Maybe that was why Prime was ***BONDED TO HIM*!**

He sniffled, cursing himself as he did for being such a crybaby.

Another song of Bumblebee's, Crybaby.

Bumblebee.

Bumblebee Prime.

Prowl shook his head and instantly froze as the contents of his helm sloshed from one side to the other. Then he gave in. Leaning pitifully against the door unable to move in any direction at all, he commed Med Bay.

:Prowl to Med Bay:

:Well, the last of the musketeers checks in. I have Wheeljack here in a basket. I suppose you want me to perform some magic on you as well:

:Ratchet-get-over-here-That's-an-order.-Prowl-out:

Ratchet snickered glancing over at Preceptor who had found Wheeljack lying half-wedged under his couch. He’d half-carried, half-dragged the mech in and helped him to lie down on a berth. "Perceptor, watch him. I have a house call to make."

"What about Ironhide? 'Jack says he's somewhere."

"Don't worry about Ironhide. I took care of him already," Ratchet said walking out the door with a grim smile.

"Well, I guess that's that then. Don't worry, 'Jack. Ratchet took care of Ironhide already."

Wheeljack could only manage a wan smile.

Ironhide on the other hand was frozen in place in the middle of his quarters cursing the wind.

Chapter 10

(*word* indicate emotion :word: indicate internal conversations or bond conversations)

-0-In a staff room waiting for a meeting

Prime felt like slag. The unbelievable euphoria that he’d felt besting Ironhide so completely that he could see belief in the madness on Ironhide's face had crashed into the concrete reality of Prowl. He turned at the sound of Prowl's face plant and it dawned on him immediately that the way things looked had caused him to glitch.

That infernal design error, it had shaken Prime to his peds. Prowl had seen it all and interpreted it the way he thought it looked, falling on his face in a system wide crash. He felt terrible and had called the group together after he’d secured from Ratchet that Prowl was okay. They’d felt that not only was the prank stellar, it would be a shame to stop now. The deciding factor had been Ratchet.

***Ratchet*.**

Ratchet had entered into the conspiracy figuring out that there actually was one even as Ironhide warily circled around the truth. From the top of his spiky head to the broad peds that transported his bulk and bore the brunt of his firepower, they knew Ironhide wasn't fooled. But what it had shown them to be true is that he hadn't figured out how so many disparate mechs had pulled it all together including mechs that had only been on Earth for joors when it was unfurled. When that was cracked so would be the prank so the majority vote of the Committee to Frag Ironhide's Aft wanted to push on. Ratchet had been the deciding factor in the end.

A guilty part of him was also glad they were continuing even if Prowl was a factor he hadn't thought to consider. The idea of usurping Ironhide's crown as the one prankster that never seemed to be defeated at his own game was too much on his mind.

He felt terrible.

But happy.

But awful.

But satisfied.

He’d waited until Prowl was re-initializing, hoping to talk to him when he was called away for a call from France. Decepticon activity was reported and they had to dispatch Cosmos to scan the countryside outside of Nice to see if there was anything to worry about. It appeared that there wasn't but by the time he had hurried back to the Med Bay, Prowl was gone. Teletraan II had located him in the lab with Wheeljack and Ironhide.

He wasn't able to go there, Ironhide alone would have made that impossible, so he sat in his quarters trying to recharge. It was a long night and even now he was nervous and anxious about the meeting. Prowl would have to come for that and he would see what he could do when he saw the quiet, thoughtful, beautiful, wonderful ... he mentally sighed as only he could. He could go on and on but it was almost time for the door to open and the morning meeting to begin.

-0-In another place and another mind

Ironhide stood by the door, his knee assemblies knocking together. The intensity of the interface energy that was cartwheeling across his circuits was reminiscent of his bonding 'audition' with Ratchet. He had managed to overload Ratchet to the point of no re and when he was laying there, Ratchet plastered all over his body in well-earned recharge he felt like a master of the universe. Ironhide, all around dominator of tall gangling medical personnel was more than sure he had filled the bill.

He and Ratchet had sparred a long time, the love deep from the beginning. The medic already intimate with Ironhide's insides having put him together from charred remains on more than a few occasions played pretty hard to get but it was only a matter of time and they were that good that fast. But the 'audition' was amusing and different. That was the first time he’d unlocked his most intimate panels and shared the contents with Ratchet.

It had been spectacular.

Now as he leaned against the door wondering if he dared, ***dared*** move one powerful leg past the other in fear that it would trigger an avalanche straight into overload, he cursed that wild-eyed Autobot. He moved his ped a little and his optics surged from the intensity of pleasure that radiated out of his codpiece to end in his limbs. His servos were actually heating up. "What the frag did he ***do*** to me?" Ironhide wondered. **:Ratchet!:**

There was a short pause, then a smile attached to a voice could be heard over the bond link. :What? I'm busy with another drunk:

:What the frag did you do to me? I can't move a toe without wanting to hump something! ***GET BACK HERE*! *I CAN'T GO TO THE STAFF MEETING LIKE THIS*!:**

:What do you want ***me*** to do about it?:

Ironhide cursing his libidinous programming heard the hilarity in Ratchet's voice. Then he cursed Ratchet's voice. : **Come here and do something, slag you! Come here and make it go away!** :

:How?: Ratchet's voice was now calm and filled with a quiet amusement, the kind he always got when he knew he had the upper hand in a frag-off.

 **:*You*** know how. You either come here and 'face the ***hell*** out of me or you ***fix this*!:**

There was a pause.

:Ironhide, I'm up to my canisters in drunks. I have Wheeljack and Prowl. I can't tell you how disappointed I am in you and Wheeljack for corrupting Prowl. You better get to the meeting or I'm going to have to be forced to tell Prime why you aren't there:

Ironhide listened in horror. :You wouldn't ***dare*!:**

There was static on the line for a moment, then it went dead.

Ironhide stared in horror at the door, then down at his own treacherous codpiece. "Oh slag," he said quietly.

-0-In a room just down from Wheeljack's lab

Prowl stood at the door shivering, his optics off lined and the rest of him teetering on the brink. He was as wretched as he ever had been in his life. He abstractly wondered how Bumblebee could stand to be yellow because he was sure, he was ***convinced*** that his own blue optics were now the same color.

As he stood there, his systems fritzing and pummeling him with error and **'Look the frag out! You're going to die!'** messages he was sure he was. And if he did, he considered he would never be able to find out what kind of kisser Prime was. Or what kind of lover. Or what kind of an explanation he had for leading him on when he was ***BONDED*** to ***SPRINGER*!** His precious Optimus, the love of his life was ***KUP*'s** great grandson-in-law something or other. It was almost too much. So was the door opening when Ratchet arrived.

Prowl fell forward and face planted for the second time in less than a stellar cycle.

Ratchet standing over him with the doorknob in his hand shook his head. "Well, well, D'Artagnan. You look like slag."

-0-Around the base, up, down and all around on the grapevine

"Prowler got ***drunk*? *No way*."**

**"*What*?"**

"Do robots drink? What do they drink? Can we get some, too?"

"Wheeljack, Prowl and Ironhide. That's what I heard. I know. Kick ass isn't it?"

**"*Prowl*?"**

"How did Prowl manage to get drunk with that stick up his ass?"

"Wonder what Optimus will think. You know, I heard another rumor."

"I hear that Prowl and Optimus got drunk together. I hear that his bond, Springer? Or is it Kup? Who cares? What's the difference? I hear that he and Prowl are having hot robot sex together. Uh-huh, uh-huh. You heard it ***too*?"**

"General Morshower gave Prime an ultimatum. Either stay with the Missus or there'd be problems. Cheating with another robot is against the rules."

**"*PROWLER*? *THAT PROWLER*? *OUR PROWLER*?"**

"Which one is this Prowl? Is he that big black mech that blows things up? That's Ironhide? How about that sweet ride, the yellow Camaro? No? I don't know what the hell I'm talking about do I?"

"Why don't they have chicks? They do? A ***motorcycle*?** **Sweet!** "

"So Bumblebee is Prime's kid. That green and yellow guy, he's the mother. How do they have them? I can't imagine. Do they make them in a shop or do they squirt them out like us? **Don't yell at me! I'm just asking!"**

" **Ewwwwwww**."

 **"Oh, sweet Jesus!** You're telling me they ***fuck*?!"**

-0-The staff meeting

Prowl walked in with an air of normalcy about him. One didn't know that he’d spent most of the night offline on Wheeljack's floor unaware that a nest of mice had come out to forage and had stood on his face and back as they looked around. He didn't have that look about him, one of mousy-ness and despair. He sat where he was supposed to sit and he even smiled and made small talk.

Wheeljack on the other hand sat with his helm in his servos and his eyes half shuttered as the fiasco in the lab had taken its toll.

Prime surveyed the troops, Ratchet's face calm and smiling, engaged as he was with First Aid. Jazz sat beside Prowl and joked quietly with him. Prime felt a frisson of jealousy but pushed it away because he was Prime and he wasn't petty.

Oh no, he wasn't.

Much.

Wheeljack looked like he had spent the night in the Pit and apparently he had. Ironhide was still missing. Hmm. What could that mean, he thought, glancing at Ratchet. Ratchet showed nothing wrong so he continued around the table checking them all out until he reached Prowl.

The mech was spectacular this morning, refreshed and sparkling, his optics clear and that lovely shade of blue that made Prime's peds curl. He looked wonderful and he wondered again about the dozen or so individuals who had told him on the way to this meeting was it true that Prowl had gotten slag faced and off lined on Wheeljack's floor? He could see no sign of it and as he sat waiting to start he was a bit put out over the slanderous gossip going around. "Ratchet."

Innocent attentive optics looked at him.

"Do you know what's keeping Ironhide?"

Ratchet smiled slightly. "Probably. He had a date with Wheeljack's floor. I would think it might be a good idea to start. He might not be here he's so fraggin' slag faced."

Everyone snorted, Prowl smiled and Prime fixated on the curve of those sweet lips forgetting for a moment that he was the much loved bond of a mech he hadn't seen for a long time and the father of the Allspark's chauffeur. He quashed a smile along with his treacherous libidinous programming as the meeting began.

By the time it was finished, Prime felt like a heel, Wheeljack was well on his way to being sober, Ratchet was smug and satisfied, Jazz had a lunch date with Prowl, frag him, Perceptor was clueless to the undertones and curious in his own way about something if he even could figure out what it was and the rest were ready to move including the luminous, much desired desirable Prowl.

In short, it was another morning in Diego Garcia.

Chapter 11

=0=Right after the Senior Autobot Staff Meeting

Ratchet wandered into the Med Bay scanning the empty precinct, then leaned into the office shared by First Aid and the other lesser medics. "I'm going off duty for a while. Comm me if there’s anything that I need to know."

First Aid nodded, the sweet quiet mech considering Ratchet once more. He shook his head and returned to his inventory, as uncertain and confused as everyone else.

Ratchet walked out nodding to those who nodded at him and by the time he reached the door of his quarters he was as filled with mirth and excited uncertainty as he could be. He schooled a bland expression and opened the door, stepping inside to glance around.

Ironhide, fuming and silent was sitting on the berth. He looked at Ratchet, his optics following the medic around the room as Ratchet dropped his datapads and began to tidy up. "No hello? No 'welcome home, how are ya, Ironhide' kiss?" His deep muddy voice was petulant and irritated but it was also subtler shades all of which Ratchet was expert at deciphering.

The tall mech looked at Ironhide considering him with a smirk. "I would but you/d grab me and I don't trust you as far as I can throw you right now, Ironhide. Can you blame me?"

Ironhide faked his best 'stricken' expression. "You wound me, Ratchet," he said gazing at the floor with a hurt expression on his face.

"I could have," Ratchet said folding his arms in front of his chassis, regarding the big sulking mech with amusement and deep affection. "You wouldn't want me to make this too easy would you? Where would be the fun in that?"

"True," Ironhide agreed wholeheartedly, glancing at Ratchet as he mentally did the math. He calculated how far away he was, how much power he would need to launch himself to grab Ratchet, how much furniture, datapads and weapons components would break into bits under the crashing weight of the two of them since they weighed something in the realm of nearly ten metric tons combined, then decided not to do it. He’d probably overload mid leap anyway.

Ratchet sighed calculatedly then turned away to pretend to gather his emotions.

Behind him watching with a wary optic, Ironhide finally capitulated the round. "Undo this, Ratchet and tell me what the frag you want."

Ratchet pretended to wipe an optic then looked with a terrible fondness at his bond. "Ironhide, don't you ever wonder what its going to be like someday if our people don't get a chance to recover themselves, to have children among us again?"

"Is that it? Are you really serious about a sparkling? Is that the reason this whole fiasco has been going on?" Ironhide asked with incredulity in his voice.

Ratchet stared at him a moment, then shook his head. "Do you know how many mechs I've asked the same question? Have you ever seen a sparkling? It's almost never a yes. Almost never. It's so many I don't dwell on the number, Ironhide. Can you imagine going your whole life without seeing or touching a child, or hear their little chirps and see their little sweet faces?"

Ironhide was solemn. "I’m aware of that."

"It's so **wrong**. I’m so **sad** about it, Ironhide. You were a wiseacre when you brought it up, joking about it. But it made me sad for you and I. There’s nothing going to carry on about you and me if there’s no sparklings now. There will be no younglings and no future sparklings. **Nothing**." Ratchet shook his head. "Haven't you ever wondered what it would be like to have a little Ironhide running around? A little Ironhide looking up at you with all the trust and love only sparklings can have for a genitor?"

Ironhide watched Ratchet, considering the quandary of his emotions. "I have."

"Then you understand me and my regrets," Ratchet said.

"I do. I've thought about it a lot. I guessed that was the biggest part of your madness," Ironhide said. "I like our life, you and me. The uncertainty of the war and our people's homelessness makes me afraid but I don't have a problem with having sparklings."

Ratchet gazed at him tensely. The look on his face was astonishing to Ironhide. "Then you don't have objections."

"No," Ironhide said simply.

Ratchet stared at him with the deepest most affectionate optics Ironhide had ever seen, then he pulled a datapad out of subspace ending the programming loop that laid Ironhide up. The wash of relief coursing through Ironhide's body was enormous and when Ratchet walked to embrace him, laying his helm on the top of Ironhide's, he embraced Ratchet, too. They sat and stood together holding each other and the moment was sublime. Then Ratchet sniffled softly. "Ironhide?"

"What?" Ironhide replied as his servo rubbed Ratchet's back gently.

"I won’t let you down."

"I know you won't, Ratchet."

"I’ll take care of you and when the moment of separation comes I’ll be the one to put our sparkling into its protoform myself."

It took Ironhide a kick or two to process that remark, then his optics opened again.

Wide.

=0=On a 'date'

Jazz and Prowl walked together, the two of them ignoring the smirks and wide optics that they were getting as they walked to the Rec Room to sit and have a break. They had sat together in the meeting with helms nearly touching, giving and taking little asides and servo touches now and again. Neither of them made a point to look at Prime but both of them could feel his optics upon them and the emotional tension moving through his big frame. His energy field alone was a measure of his anxiety.

Prowl had been relieved, having slurred out a confession of his entire evening's point to a surprisingly receptive Ratchet when the medic had hauled him off the floor of the corridor and back to his berth. It was confession time on both sides as Ratchet swore him to secrecy and laid out the whole thing.

**"WHAT!"**

"Now Prowl, let me explain."

Prowl who looked on the fritz once more centered himself remembered the words of Master Yoketron, his circuit su teacher and mentor for the times he would find himself turning too much inward: **"KNOCK IT OFF, PROWL!"**

He waited.

Ratchet had explained the practical joke part. Then he explained the part about wanting a sparkling with Ironhide, a confession that made Prowl's optics twirl. Then he explained how difficult Prime was about courtships and other complications to his self denying self view, perceived dignity as a Prime and all around oblivious mech attitude. It all made sense and Prowl knew that when he meditated on it later it would refine even further but it still made him angry.

"I thought he was interested in me. Then he tells everyone he's bonded to Springer. Then there's the family bit and Ironhide running around like a berserker. First he says and acts like he likes me, then he takes it away."

"Prowl, let me propose something here. I'm going to break the news to Ironhide that I want a sparkling. He's probably going to be all right with that. Then I'm going to break to him that I want him to be the carrier."

Prowl snorted. "That won't go over well will it?"

"No," Ratchet said. "But it’ll percolate in his skull for a while and that's the key to Ironhide. If you don't have enough seniority to order him to do something you tell him what you want and let him think about it. When he gets to the point where he thinks it's his own idea then you win."

"How long will that take?" Prowl asked as he listened fascinated to the obviously superior psychology and life experience of the medic.

"Sometimes forever and sometimes not. I have the upper hand."

"What do you mean?" Prowl asked.

"Read the Lysistrata," Ratchet said with a grin.

[Initiate. Access. Search function: Lysistrata, literature, work of. Scan. Acquired information download initiate. Access concluded]

Faster than an eye could blink, Prowl had accessed, downloaded and read the story finding himself torn between hiding under the couch and laughing out loud. "You’re evil."

"I am," Ratchet said as he chuckled. "That’s part of my allure." He patted Prowl's servo. "When I get you on your feet I’m going to help you land the Prime."

Prowl blinked. "What?"

"You want him, yes?" Ratchet asked.

"Uh, yes," Prowl admitted, feeling as he did the combined weight of embarrassment and high grade pinching him in the aft. He wasn't a flamboyant mech by even the most generous measure and self-disclosure even to his doctor was hard.

"Well, good. If we leave it up to you two, you’ll never get together," Ratchet said. "First thing, you have to get spiffed up, then energized so that your optics shine. Next, you’ll sit with Jazz and flirt." Ratchet gave Prowl a critical discerning optic. "You **do** know how to flirt don't you?"

Prowl frowned at Ratchet. His ego, such as it was about personal things felt wounded slightly. "I **do**. I **can**."

"Oh, Primus. Special case. Well, we'll help you. Jazz is the king of tease and I'm no slouch myself. Come on. Let's get you ready. The meeting is coming up fast."

That had been the morning and when he entered the meeting with a clued in Jazz by his side, Prowl looked cleaned, waxed and refreshing as a morning breeze. Prowl would never forget the whirlwind that was Ratchet on a mission.

=0=Optimus Prime

He stood in the doorway of Ops Center watching the loveliness that was Prowl. It was impossible that Prowl could have been face down on Wheeljack's floor, he considered. He looked beautiful and wonderful and he was ***flirting*** with ***Jazz*.** He felt as confused as he ever was as walked out the door to the Ops Center in the N.E.S.T. hangar and the human beings that had no clue so much drama could exist in the confines of the Autobot's Command Center.

=0=Ironhide

He crept around the corner and slipped away heading for the obstacle course. It was nearby and from there he’d be able to step over the electrified fence. The beach ran alongside it and there he’d be able to sit and think. Ratchet had pulled another fast one on him and when it was clear that he was being prepped for sacrifice he’d fled.

He would never learn, he considered as he stepped over the fence, disappearing toward the gleaming waters and warm sand nearby. The soldiers working on the obstacle course paused to watch him, utterly fascinated that such a huge mechanical being could be so light on his feet.

They had no idea at all.

=0=Jazz

He stood next to Prowl watching the screen as they tracked the skies of Earth. Ratchet had been to him and given the severity of the lack of confidence in Prowl about relationships and other personal obstacle courses, they had agreed to help the quiet mech find his footing again even as there was still some work to do on Operation Frag Ironhide's Aft. It would begin immediately and culminate when Prowl had what he wanted. That Jazz had Mirage was of little consequence. He could talk Mirage into anything.

And so it was that Operation Get Prowl Laid was born.

Chapter 12

=0=That same day

The call came that afternoon and N.E.S.T. was go, their gear at readiness at all times. Optimus Prime walked out of the N.E.S.T. HQ toward the Autobot Command Center complex, all the detritus of life as it was day-to-day wiped from his mind as he considered the problem they were facing.

Apparently the Decepticons were working to transfer arms technology to gangs in urban areas of Europe in an attempt to cause chaos and sow distrust for Transformers in general among the already jittery human population.

He’d decided to send in rapid response teams, groups of humans and Transformers with specific areas to search. The problem was that the targeted areas were near large urban cities. London and Paris were two of them as well as Prague. Teams would be sent to each and they’d be controlled through the Ops Center in the Autobot's hangar complex because the technology there was superior to the humans.

The hubbub inside their facility was brisk and professional as the designated Autobots gathered together their weaponry and moved it toward the assembly area out in front. Ironhide would lead the team that would converge on London. Jazz would lead the team in Paris and Optimus would take Prague.

In their quarters, Ironhide shifting through his ammo piles and stashing his newest configurations into subspace watched out of the corner of an optic as Ratchet gathered together his own supplies and essential weaponry. He would be going with Prime, the intel from Prague posing the most possibility for injury to the Autobots in his team. They pulled themselves together as they had for a million battles over nine million years and when they were ready they turned to face each other as they always did.

Nothing was said, everything was said and then they came together to hold each other. For a moment they were one, their sparks joined, then they stepped apart walking to the door together. As he reached the door, Ironhide grabbed Ratchet's arm then pulled him into his arms again. He kissed Ratchet's neck, hugging him tightly.

Ratchet hugged him back, emotion strangely enough rising in his chassis. "Come back, Ironhide."

"You, too," Ironhide said, then he let Ratchet go and grasped the door. He opened it to step through, waiting for Ratchet to follow. He did and down the corridor they went, joining the swell of Autobots on all sides of them, both the warriors going and the ones staying seeing their comrades off. All along the length of the building to the open spaces beyond, Ironhide's hand rested lightly on Ratchet's back.

=0=Ops Center

Prowl moved between the stations, his low calm voice a steadying presence as the transport planes began to taxi. The plane to Prague included Optimus Prime, Ratchet, Arcee and Smokescreen. The human contingent was led by Captain Lennox. They left first, the plane running along the runway lifting off with the Autobots in their alt vehicle form and the soldiers strapped into the net seats.

Ironhide watched it go, his expression thoughtful. Then he gathered his crew to go toward their transport, transforming as he did. Sideswipe, Mirage and Bluestreak followed. They rolled up the ramp where airmen took care to buckle them in. Sergeant Epps led his men inside and in minutes they were airborne as well.

The last transport carried off Jazz and his crew of bots, Sunstreaker, Hound and Springer. Lieutenant Graham led the humans into the plane where they settled as the low thrum of emotion regarding the coming assignment was offset by the roar of the engines as it taxied.

Prowl stood by Teletraan II watching the screen. The roving satellite that Teletraan had launched circled the Earth above the scrum of the human's less useful, more breachable machines and endlessly circling scrap and garbage. It was being re-positioned to allow coverage of the Earth from Diego Garcia to the shores of America and all the places in between from north to south. By the time the planes were over their drop zones it would have been in place scrutinizing the affected areas for hours.

He considered their predicament, his battle computers absorbing information faster than it could be downloaded and diffused it through a dozen scenarios that he was building. All of the possibilities would be sorted out, all the potential outcomes worked through. He would be ready to give them instruction, directions and battle tactics as they were needed faster than anything the humans had or would have for many, many generations.

=0=Over London

The signal from the flight deck was given as the soldiers gathered their gear together. Ironhide rising from his tie down shoved the net away as he moved to the rear ramp. Pausing there, the other Autobots behind him along with the humans waited their turn to move, too. The light blinked and the ramp began to descend as the raging wind buffeted in, filling the vessel with a cold howling breeze.

Ironhide looked down at Lennox who patted his ped and nodded. Moving forward, Lennox leaped out into the darkness followed by the rest of his men. Looking back, Ironhide nodded to them, then stepped forward into the night.

Behind him grinning with a malevolent glee, Sideswipe moved forward. He was followed by Bluestreak then Mirage, the last one out of the bay. They fell into the darkness, then the transport banked to head back to the base nearby that would allow them to wait out the operation at USAFE Mildenhall.

They were on their own.

=0=Prague

They had landed in the countryside nearby, their jump nearly perfect. The five human soldiers consolidating around Sergeant Epps entered the Autobot vehicles as they transformed into their alt modes. The night was deep and cool, the first frosts of the season covering the ground.

Pulling out, they moved on heading for the suburbs of Prague where agents had told them that arms transactions had taken place. In the plane overhead, Optimus Prime waited, plugged into the team and the Ops Center with Prowl back on Diego Garcia.

=0=Paris

The soldiers led by Niall Graham piled into the Autobot vehicles and began to move toward Les Mesnil-Aubrey using the D316. Jazz who was awash in admiration of the great and beautiful city they were leaving behind wished that at some point in time he’d have the chance to explore the ancient city of light, Paris. Mirage would love this place he thought and the two of them had to someday come here together.

=0=Prague

The E55 led in a curving line toward Klicany. They went in tandem rolling closer to the dirt road that would branch off and lead into the country. From there they would be on sensors seeking any sign of technology that had no place among human hands.

Smokescreen and Arcee would take point moving off the road system to range off the beaten path. Ratchet carrying Lennox and several of his soldiers would stay on the road and wait for intel from the two Autobots at point.

The night sky was overcast and the stars peered out from the breaks in clouds. Ratchet felt a foreboding in the darkness, a sensation honed of many millenniums fighting a ruthless foe. He drove with all his sensors active and online.

=0=London

They had landed south of Peterborough, a field filled with sheep their landing spot. Gathering together, Ironhide gave his orders and transformed, loading two soldiers while Sideswipe took Epps and two others. They turned off the dirt road that led to the A1139 heading southerly, hoping to link up to the A1 to Huntington. Intel on the ride over had told them that the target was heading back to London and they were in a hurry to cut them off before it became a game of hunt and fight in the ancient urban center of London.

=0=Autobot Ops Center

Prowl sat beside the night officer, Red Alert. He was operating the sensor array interface and all of the communications were coming through his board, the comm links rerouted to cut down on confusion. He was listening hard, his usual nervous intensity adding to the overall tension on the command deck. He was counterpoint to Prowl, whose calm and soft-spoken presence made the waiting bearable.

Beyond them pacing, sitting and hanging around both at the Ops Center door and the Rec Room beyond, humans and Autobots passed the time. The comm system was routed into the rec center for all to hear, making the mission a mission for all, even those left behind.

Humans in their own ops center and others working here running communications for the soldiers also worked in the Autobot ops center, their perch on the top of a table nearby bringing them closer to the mechs. All was going well and the desultory comments made by the field teams broke the silence from time to time. Nothing was happening and Prowl considered from experience that that wasn't a bad thing.

=0=London

They reached the outskirts of London and the traffic picked up. Following a lead that told them a plasma weapon system was being transferred to a human arms dealer in the suburb of Finsbury Park, they hurried on in the night, a tight convoy of humans and someone most people would be hard pressed to believe existed even now.

=0=Paris

They reached the point of transfer, a series of old dilapidated buildings that had the air of being abandoned since the forties. Transforming in a secluded area nearby, Jazz gathered his team and the humans to peer into the darkness beyond. :Jazz to Prowl:

:Prowl here:

:We’re at the site outside of St. Denis. What does Teletraan tell you about any Decepticons around here?:

:Sensors are inconclusive. I would suggest recon:

:Affirmative: Jazz rose then glanced down to the soldiers. "Prowl suggests recon. There doesn't seem to be a clear signal from Teletraan."

They divided up, a soldier going with an Autobot. The groups moved into the darkness working toward the black shapes of buildings in the distance. The night was oppressive so they walked with caution, their arms online and their optics sharp.

=0=London

They followed traffic into town as the signal led them from Finsbury Park into Kings Cross. As they drove in convoy the signal became stronger with each kilometer passed. The conversation between the vehicles was kept to a minimum and the tension of battle was rising.

:Ironhide:

:Bluestreak: Ironhide acknowledged.

:We're coming to a roundabout. What’s the plan?:

:They’re moving. Take the southeast turnoff and head for King's Cross:

:Do you want to take point or do I keep it?:

:Keep it for now. We're going to have to break up and take parallel streets once we get into the city if it comes to that:

:Affirmative: Bluestreak said as his sensors strained against any possibility.

They continued onward, the flickering signal of a weapons system moving just out of their reach. They found themselves in Kings Cross Central, a large emerging area bounded by train lines and roads. Pausing at the northern edge of the largely open underdeveloped area, they moved to a building site, pulling up in the shadowed side of a commercial building being constructed.

The soldiers climbed out and gathered against the building's side as the mechs transformed hunkering down with the soldiers. Ironhide with his weapons systems already online glanced at the other three mechs, comming Prowl as he did.

:We're in place. Give us what you got, Prowler:

  
  


:How many mechs?: Ironhide asked grimly.

:At least one, possibly two:

:Affirmative: Ironhide gave his instructions directing Mirage to work his way toward the signal to discern what was on the other side of the open well-lighted space. There were new constructions there as well, concrete and steel buildings that were in various stages of finish. Some were skeletons and others were nearly done so the possibilities of hiding places were many.

Mirage nodded and with a light step he rose, disappearing as he cloaked.

Ironhide watched him with concern in his tanks for just a moment, then he turned back to the team who were awaiting the go. He sent Bluestreak into the darkness to fall back and come around from the south positioning his sniper on the far side of the signature.

Sideswipe with his rifle cradled in his arms waited with Ironhide and the soldiers.

The moon was bright as clouds moved over the sky deepening and lightening the shadows as they rolled on.

Ironhide waited aware that Bluestreak and Mirage wouldn’t be comming him. They wouldn’t touch base with Prowl again. Instead, they’d be contacted by him for only the most serious reasons. For now they were on their own.

Chapter 13

=0=In the countryside, Czech Republic

They walked without making a sound, picking their way infallibly through the darkness. Night vision optics and sensors that could scan accurately for miles were their edge. For big mechs, some of them over twenty-five feet, they were incredibly silent. The coordinates that they were given had led them to a farmhouse on a dirt road.

There was a faint dampened sensor reading of Decepticons emanating from the vicinity of the dilapidated farm ahead. Lennox with night vision goggles on his eyes lead the soldiers down the middle of their spread out formation. Arcee was with them as Ratchet and Smokescreen circled around the western side of the ramshackle building.

They were attempting to encircle it but they were also very careful, probing the edges of the farm and its outbuildings, anyone of which could conceal their enemy. Low broken down wooden fences and brambling bushes were no obstacle to the bots but the humans struggled to clear them without a sound.

Overhead, a transport plane circled as Optimus Prime listened with intensity. He was pegged into the Ops Center on Diego Garcia, the quiet efficient voice of Prowl giving him updates on the entire mission in all its far flung places. He was concerned that this didn't feel right.

Millions of years of leadership and the overriding power of the Creation Matrix had enhanced his senses. Something felt wrong and he became sure that there was a missing piece to the puzzle. As the plane swung around heading back towards the location his team was currently working, he called to the airmen.

He was going down himself.

=0=London

The sound of footsteps made Bluestreak freeze in place. There was something big in the shadows of the buildings nearby him. He had circled around and made his way to a place where he could take a shot in at least a two hundred forty degree angle. The section of debris and piled up dirt he was heading for would allow him to lay flat and give him an almost unobstructed field of fire.

Turning slightly with his weapon positioned, sweeping the area with it ready to fire, he felt rather than saw something coming. Turning again, a blur with red eyes was covering ground faster than anything earth could construct so he sighted by instinct and fired. The blast of sound rendered their stealth a moot point as Ravage leaped from thirty feet out and landed on Bluestreak.

As the report of Blue's weapon reverberated, Ironhide rose and fired at the building before him igniting in a shower of shrapnel the pile of cinder blocks stacked in front of it. They ripped into the facade, tearing and peppered holes all along the structure. The sensor hit had been in that building and as he began to move to the cover of a stack of lumber, broken bricks and steel, Sideswipe rose and threw down covering fire.

Return fire erupted from the building, shots that streaked at Ironhide and barely missed him. Laser weapons fire continued as Sideswipe stood nearby shooting at the source of it, unconcerned that he was exposed.

When Ironhide rolled toward the trash pile, he fired at the house construct with both his cannons. The side of it erupted and exploded inward as cries of pain and curses of fury rang out from its confines.

Bluestreak who was pinned to the ground, his arm in the mouth of Ravage shrieked with rage and pain as he gripped the creature's tail, pulling on it as hard as he could. It disengaged its mouth and turned in fury toward Blue to try to grip him once more.

By that time Blue had gotten a foothold and scrambled upward as the beast whipped around hampered just enough by Blue's grip on his tail that he couldn't sink his steel fangs into the young mech again. A steady stream of energon flew from the beast, testimony to the accuracy of Blue's aim.

" **Blue!** "

Sideswipe ran toward the other side of the house aiming to reach a stack of lumber and a dump truck. He nearly made it, too.

=0=In the countryside, St. Denis

The soldier with Jazz was silent as a ghost as the two worked their way toward a muted Decepticon sensor reading ahead. A farmhouse with a stone wall as high as a tall man encircling it was the source of the signal. Jazz had sent everyone ahead to surround it as they moved in two-by-two teams, Autobot and soldier, each supporting the others together.

Springer, nerveless and immensely alert led his soldier around the eastern side of the complex overstepping a bramble-filled creek and hunkering down beside an old dovecote. His bulk wasn't very well hidden but something told him that it didn't matter.

He looked at his soldier who looked at him and shrugged. Springer nodded then looked to the left and right of his position. Jazz and a soldier were on one side and Hound and Sunstreaker with their soldiers were on the other.

Springer looked down. "Stay here and don't move. Keep down below the stone fence," he whispered to his soldier. The soldier nodded then watched as Springer rose and moved away into the shadows heading in the direction of Jazz. The soldier lay down on the ground and waited, his weapon ready and his heart pounding.

=0=Czech Republic

Optimus Prime landed, then cut his chutes loose. He scanned the area and quickly located his team. Then he broke comm silence taking a chance that he was wrong. **:Pull back! NOW!:**

It was silent, then it wasn't.

The flash was so bright that it off lined his optics a moment. Optimus Prime felt the blast wave and the heat of it, raising his arm to protect himself as his battle mask activated. He turned back from the heat, then turned again to move with superhuman speed toward the fireball that once was the farmhouse.

=0=Diego Garcia, Ops Center

The mechs in the Rec Room and pacing in the corridors were silent, frozen in place as the roar of bombs went off. The first blast was followed with another, then there was shooting and shouting. They stood together and listened as their comrades, friends and companions fought for their lives.

In the command center, Prowl was all efficiency, prompting mechs and humans back to work as the shock of the sounds erupted over the line. He was in contact with Optimus and he heard the battle with Ironhide but he had no contact with Jazz. He turned to Teletraan II and moved the mech aside sitting to turn to the controls himself.

Red Alert, stunned, glared at him then shook himself out of it, moving to the computer arrays next to Prowl to begin to sift for helpful information.

Prowl frantically keyed in data waiting with outward calm and inner panic as the satellite in space began to move into position, focusing its powerful cameras and sensors more directly over the continent of Europe. As he waited he commed Cosmos and told him to come down to Diego, pick up medical teams and to be ready to evacuate wounded. Cosmos pinged back and began a descent into an orbit that would allow him to make Diego in seconds.

Prowl commed Med Bay. "First Aid, gather med teams and report to runway four. Cosmos will be there to take you to evacuate wounded when we refine the situation."

"Affirmative, Prowl. On our way."

=0=Med Bay

First Aid felt deep pangs of cold fear gather within his circuits as he collected the emergency medical gear that was always kept waiting in a room off the main Med Bay. Mechs running down from the Rec Room determined to help rushed in to pick up tanks of emergency energon and the instrument case for emergency surgery kept there for these reasons, helping First Aid and the other medics carry all of it out the door and up the long corridor to the tarmac beyond. Other mechs too late to help hurried with them, their impotence turning into nervous activity.

They made it to the tarmac and headed out to runway four, hurrying with their gear as Cosmos touched down. The medical teams entered the ship, slowing to stow gear and drums that were hoisted hand over hand by the mechs on the runway. Then they stepped back and Cosmos rose up to disappear into the dark sky. They watched him until he was gone from even their sight.

Chapter 14

  
  


=0=Czech Republic

Prime ran with superhuman speed toward the flash, his sensors picking up nothing that might indicate a Decepticon presence. He jumped a broken piece of abandoned farm machinery to land with a thundering crash and continued onward at high speed. As he got closer, he spotted a soldier lying where the blast had tossed him while retreating. He stopped to check, noting the presence of life signs. : **Prowl!** :

:Prowl here:

: **We have wounded!** :

The mechs in the hallways, out in front of the hangar and in the Rec Room listened silently standing together worry and frustration. Prime's voice filtered over the comm system, the sound of burning and a shout beginning nearby followed by another rang out with the constant screams of a wounded soldier.

:Cosmos is on the way. What do you need? Reinforcements?:

"Not here. There are no Decepticons here. What about the others? I fear this is true with the others:

:I can't raise Jazz. Ironhide is in a fight:

:Get someone out there now, Prowl:

:Right away

The line was open and they could hear the shouts and blasts of combat with the London team as well as the burning and cries of the wounded with Prime. Paris was silent and they stood in dread of what it meant. Prowl was on the line, too, his calm voice directing rescue.

Silverbolt and fourteen mechs were being dispatched, the mechs called running from the Rec Room and other places, checking their weaponry on the fly. Silverbolt took off, the sound of his jets fading away intensely frustrating to those left behind.

All around the area out of the way of running mechanisms, human civilians and armed forces personnel stood or sat, watching for information as well. Navy personnel from ships in port mingled with marines and army soldiers, taking time to see what was up.

"Something must have gone wrong," a French soldier said as he stood with a mixed group of marines and soldiers watching the Autobot embassy. "This mission has taken a turn."

An English soldier nodded. "I think so," he said. He glanced at the Embassy. "I wish I could go inside there and watch."

"Be a striker," a soldier said glancing at the Englishman.

"Just like that," the English soldier replied with a slight grin.

=0=London

Ironhide lay down a steady fusillade of fire as he blew the shelter of the enemy into wood chips and concrete dust. Fire from behind signaled the presence of Mirage. The return reports inside the disintegrating structure were faltering and the sound of a something big moving away from them could be heard. **:Bluestreak!:** Ironhide commed.

The sound of thrashing could be heard in the lull in shooting as Ironhide glanced back. Epps and the soldiers were moving along the edge of the fire fight lobbing grenades into the building. They exploded and the fight ended. It was silent a moment, then the thrashing sound was heard again.

Ironhide rose and ran toward it as Mirage appeared in the dust and fire light. The soldiers moved to where Sideswipe lay.

A huge dark shadow was fleeing, rising to fly away even as Ironhide shot at it. Mirage fired and ran after it pouring rounds but it flew away. Cursing with frustration, they rounded a pile of wood and debris spotting Bluestreak struggling.

With an unholy roar, Ironhide ran forward and grabbed Ravage by the neck and tail pulling the beast off of the younger mech. He literally in his rage tore it to pieces, flinging them away in a rain of energon and sparks.

Turning back, he saw Bluestreak trying to stand up, staggering as Mirage moved to hold him. Ironhide ran to him catching him before he fell. Glancing around swiftly, his optics scanning the slag hole that once was the target of their expedition, he felt a savage sense of satisfaction that it was smoking and filled with charred things. Helping Bluestreak forward, Mirage following with his rifle in his hands, his optics scanning the sky, they walked to where the others were huddled.

" **Sideswipe!** " Bluestreak said struggling to go to the big mech sprawled in the dirt.

Ironhide held Blue as he thrashed then calmed, his optics focused on the figure of Sideswipe lying on the ground with an emergency compress on his leg. "I have a boo-boo," Sideswipe said smiling sheepishly. "I'm getting slow."

Blue subbed his emergency kit and looked at the wound. A round had passed through his leg and the energon leak needed closed. Blue opened the packet with the equipment but fumbled it, his hands were shaking so badly.

Ironhide tugged at Blue and had him sit, the youngster lying back as he did, his head on Mirage's lap. Then Ironhide began to bind up the wounds, stopping the bleeding with a field patch. He then bound the wounds with special pressure wraps that would protect the breakage without causing more damage. When they were both taken care of he looked at them with relief.

"You do that well, Ironhide," Epps said patting Sideswipe.

"Ratchet rubs off," Ironhide said. He started, then internally checked his bond. For a moment it didn't register and then it did. He arose, an expression of such fear on his face they were all quieted.

"What is it, Ironhide?" Blue asked sitting up painfully.

He stood a moment turning this way and that, the two youngsters and Mirage understanding immediately. They looked at each other with fear and concern.

Epps caught the exchange and began to ask but they cut him off. They sat where they were watching silently, then finally Ironhide relaxed slightly, turning to face in the general direction of the Czech Republic. He didn't know he was but he did because that’s where the small flickering spark bond of Ratchet was coming from. "We have to get the frag out of here," he said as sirens in the distance could be heard. "I have to find Ratchet."

=0=Czech Republic

The burning hole in the ground was a total loss as was intended. Prime's instinct was right. This was a set up and he waited anxiously for Prowl to tell him that Jazz and the others were safe. As it was, they had two injured organics and a few battered Autobots. Ratchet had been blown head over heals fleeing at his warning. He’d lost a bit of paint along his hip and acquired a few dings here and there but all in all they were alright. He was circulating among the troops dispensing aid and grumbling. It was a welcomed sound to Prime.

:Prowl to Prime:

:Prime here:

:Silverbolt has arrived in France. It was as you suspected. They took a blast but Springer alerted them to the prospects so there are a lot of dings and dents but no fatalities:

Prime's spark squeezed and he thanked Primus silently. :I am glad:

It was silent a moment. :So am I: Prowl replied softly. :We’re going to send local N.E.S.T. people to clear Ironhide's team from London. Apparently there was a Decepticon there and they flew off before firm identification was made. We can speculate on who it was but there’s little evidence thus far that it could be Starscream or any other Seeker. Sideswipe and Bluestreak sustained serious wounds but will recover. Soldiers in the Paris operation suffered wounds but nothing fatal:

Prime stretched his head back lessening the tightness of the cables in his neck. :Thank Primus. We were set up, Prowl:

:Perhaps, but they didn't get the weapons system in London. Ironhide fragged the building the weapon and the arms dealer was in. They’re still bagging the pieces:

:That is good news. What is the status of our transport home?:

:We'll send Cosmos or Silverbolt, whomever is first available. Cosmos is due shortly with Jazz's team:

:Very well. We'll be waiting. Prime out: Optimus walked to where Ratchet knelt pulling a piece of shrapnel out of Smokescreen's leg. He had staunched the energon flow and was binding the wound with pressure bandages. "That should hold you, Smokey, until we get you back to Med Bay."

Arcee herself unharmed stood over Ratchet weapons in hand and one optic to the sky as they waited for transport.

"Ratchet, Ironhide wasn't hurt. He's unhurt and the others will recover."

Ratchet looked up fixing Optimus with a sharp gaze. He nodded pausing with his efforts. "Thank you, Optimus."

Prime nodded in return, then rose upward to walk to the smoldering fire which was just beginning to burn down. A bomb had been placed in two places to draw attention away from the main one. A Seeker was obviously supervising the transfer of Cybertronian weapons technology to the arms dealer in London.

It was luck that they’d picked up that tick in the overall criminal operation. Then he corrected himself. They had found it through effort and skill. His people and the humans were tenacious and they deserved all the accolades they could possibly receive.

As he stared into the smoldering hole, he could hear overhead the sound of Silverbolt and a mech contingent coming downward toward them. A flood light filled the area as he looked up to spot Inferno's face looking out of the open door. He waved and Inferno waved back relieved.

Optimus Prime stood by the burning building looking up at the Autobrand on the ship.

Relieved.

=0=Diego Garcia

Cosmos dropped off the team from France with stretchers carrying the soldiers and Hound. Hound had taken a bad hit to his leg, shrapnel flying close by as he fled from the bomb. Springer had found Jazz in the darkness. He had paused the advance and was about to signal a pullback when the bomb had gone off. They were tossed like dolls and fell hard. Hound was closest taking the worst hits and because his soldier was behind him his soldier lived.

They were commed that Cosmos and medical aid were on the way and when they arrived they helped the wounded in first, then climbed aboard themselves. Local N.E.S.T. personnel and agents from Interpol as well as special operatives from the Police Nationale would clean up the mess and forward any evidence to the Special Division, a new unit that was now a part of Interpol.

It was the conduit to handle evidence in international Autobot-N.E.S.T. operations on soil of non-treaty nations. Neither France nor the Czech Republic were signatories to the Autobot treaty establishing their presence on the Earth. That was still to be ratified in their assemblies. This activity in their countries would probably be a spur to that outcome.

Silverbolt was redirected to Prague to provide security for the team and help the medics load them up. Once that was accomplished, Prime boarded Silverbolt with the security squad and flew to London. They landed at Mildenhall Air Base and waited as Ironhide's crew was brought to the field in closed semi truck trailers. They were loaded onto the big jet and on their way in minutes.

By the time the sun was up, the entire operation was over and everyone was either in Diego Garcia or shortly away from arrival.

=0=In Med Bay

Ratchet limped in tossing his bag down on the floor near to the emergency gear room. He looked at the patients on the beds, most of them lightly wounded from shrapnel.

First Aid laboring over Hound looked over his shoulder and smiled. "Hi, Ratchet. Welcome back. You look like slag."

"Thanks," Ratchet said grimacing at him. "What's the status here?"

"Sideswipe got wounded in the fire fight in London. Hound, here got shrapnel in Paris. Bluestreak is wounded. Ravage tore him up and they're coming in with the Prague team. Should be here any minute. Ironhide wasn't harmed by the way."

"Thanks," Ratchet said. He walked to the office to sit on his chair. His hip ached and the scrape of paint from his chassis stung. He sat there resting his joints, considering how a moment of sublime pranking could take a diversion into the pit, then things right themselves again. It was strange but it was their life and had been since Primus was a pup as his old genitor used to say.

He smirked as he thought about Ironhide. The game was still afoot and Prowl was still almost constitutionally incapable of landing Prime. And there was still the problem of Ironhide and the sparkling. He smiled and shook his helm. "Its good to be home. Come home, Ironhide. Quickly." He sat a moment longer, then arose to limp into the Med Bay to help.

=0=Shortly after

The tarmac was crowded by mechs and organics. Ambulances for the wounded soldiers were waiting. Dozens of mechs stood around the area waiting making themselves available for their returning comrades and Prime.

Silverbolt set down with a delicacy that belied his immense bulk. They offloaded the wounded then disappeared into the Autobot complex. The humans took their wounded while Prime and the base commander talked, a conference call with the Joint Chiefs and relevant civilian authorities scheduled for later that afternoon to discuss what the operation could mean.

Prime who was tired and aggravated finally headed toward the hangar and Ops Center. Ironhide left earlier walking toward the complex to disappear inside. He could imagine his old friend looking for Ratchet and he was sure he did. As for himself, he had to see Prowl before recharge. He could squeeze a couple of joors in if he worked at it.

The sun was coming bright and warm over the curve of the earth as Optimus Prime disappeared into the hangar complex that was home.

Chapter 15

  
  


=0=Diego Garcia

He trudged wearily down the two lane road that formed the central artery of the mostly underground complex that was the Autobot's home and work space. It had been the main entry point for trucks and other vehicles that had hauled tons of equipment and supplies in that served the base before their arrival, storing all of it in gigantic over sized rooms. The need for privacy and a place that was their own, an Autobot embassy if you will had allowed them to negotiate for the hangar complex and make it a sovereign territory with all the rights and privacy of any other. No one could come here without permission but for the handful of humans that were welcome at any time.

He reached the Med Bay doors after running a gauntlet of mechs delighted to see him and after being peppered with questions, half of which he couldn't answer. He paused peering inside, finding it empty but for a recharging Bluestreak. He entered to walk over to the youngling mech whose youth was even more pronounced in repose. A shaft of guilt pierced Ironhide as he leaned down to kiss Blue on his forehead, petting his cheek as he watched him resting.

You should be a youngling still, worrying about school and playing pranks with other younglings he thought. You shouldn't be the sole survivor of an atrocity committed to your home, **our** home, our Praxus. A flutter of sorrow filtered through and was dampened down as Ironhide looked at the cute kid lying on the berth with energon lines plugged into his arms and other things. Even bonded to a medic, he only vaguely recognized what they were as they did their part for Bluestreak.

He looked around, the chaos still apparent and he knew that Ratchet was tired or it would be more organized. Energon spotted the floor. He moved his ped to avoid more of it than had already found him. Tracks of it were already on the floor and he considered a couple more probably wouldn't hurt. Cast off wires and tubing, a charred bit of armor here and there, it was too common and it had been visited on the kid, too.

Again.

He glanced around scanning for Ratchet, nothing too strong, just enough and found that he was in the back. Walking as quietly as he could he found Ratchet in the farthest room staring at a computer screen, his servos braced on the counter. "Ratchet," he said softly.

Ratchet didn't hear him or he was lost in thought so deeply he felt alone so Ironhide gently surged his energy field, touching Ratchet's own tightly wound energetic aura. Ratchet started, then looked up, the effects of the blast he’d taken clear to Ironhide. "Hi, Ironhide."

Ironhide nodded. "Hi, Ratchet."

They stared at each other a moment, then moved together embracing tightly as they did. They stood together silently, then Ratchet whispered. "I hear you did good."

"I hear you got blown head over peds."

"Yeah. It was almost fun. Almost."

"You lost some paint."

"Yeah."

"I'll repaint and buff you, Ratchet."

"And I’ll fix you, too, Ironhide."

There was a pause, a gentle swaying, then Ironhide got to the important stuff. "The prank stuff ... it's still on?"

"Yeah."

Ironhide smiled brightly, then quashed it schooling his features to a serious affect. "I thought so."

"You wouldn't want it any other way."

"Nope," he said truthfully. "I don't suppose you want to call a truce just for tonight..."

"So you can get some?" Ratchet felt his smile forming and he struggled to quash it. He hugged Ironhide even tighter until he could.

"It's been a while. And you owe me."

Ratchet leaned back to fix Ironhide with a jaundiced optic. "Owe you? I **owe** you?"

"You left my sexy programming running in a loop until I nearly melted my critical energy port."

Ratchet smiled. "That was a good one wasn't it."

"Yeah," Ironhide said as his hands drifted down to grip Ratchet's aft. "You owe me."

"You can squeeze my aft, Ironhide," Ratchet said. "But you won't be getting any. The spigot is closed until further notice."

Ironhide stared at Ratchet with a smirk. "You won't be able to hold out."

Ratchet smiled back grimly. "I will. You **know** I will."

Ironhide stared at the stubborn mech in his arms, his smirk fading at the desert yawning before him to infinity. "I suppose you have the appropriate literary references."

Ratchet nodded. "Lysistrata."

[initiate. Access. Search function: Lysistrata, literature, work of. Scan. Acquired information download initiate. Access concluded]

Ironhide's optics surged as he leaned back to look at Ratchet with a grimace. "Where did you find **that**? I didn't need to know about erect human penises no matter **when** it was written or by **who**."

Ratchet laughed, a wholly beautiful sight Ironhide considered. "You’re such a whiner."

"I don't whine. I merely loudly point out things that bother me," Ironhide said smirking once more. "And one of the things that bothers me is not interfacing after a battle. It's a rule. We interface after a battle when we're together. You owe me one, Ratchet."

Ratchet chuckled, then leaned in to kiss Ironhide so softly he could barely feel it.

Ironhide dialed up his facial sensors but the kiss was over. "More, please."

"Dickens," Ratchet said as his digits traced Ironhide's lips gently.

"I don't care what or who, I just want to 'face you. Here is as good as any other place," he said waggling his optical ridges.

Ratchet snorted. "You know that's against The Rules."

"Frag The Rules."

"Okay. Here's the only way you’re going to get 'faced tonight."

Ironhide nodded expecting just about anything and he got it.

"I’ll let you bend me over but Prime has to be on his hands and knees. Bend me over Prime and you can 'face me."

A visual neither of them truly wanted flashed across their processors and was gone even faster.

Ironhide smirked. "What makes you think I won't ask him?"

"Because, Ironhide, I believe even **you** won't sink that low. Consider the Matrix... the wrath of the Primes? Primus?..."

"Give me a few orns."

Ratchet laughed as he looked at him with loving optics. "I’ll bend a rule a little. You can kiss me. Nothing more."

Ironhide snorted. "You want to 'face, too."

"Way bad," Ratchet said smirking back.

Ironhide gripped Ratchet's aft tighter then pressed him against the wall.

Ratchet slipped his arms around Ironhide's broad shoulder and proceeded to devour the big mech. They battled back and forth, each determined to kiss enough to weather the dry spell that was looming at them like a Deception mother ship.

Standing in the doorway staring at them with a shocked and surprised expression, First Aid watched. He didn't mean to. He had to ask Ratchet something before returning to attend to Bluestreak's release instructions. But he had.

It burned into his optics, the two of them thrashing against the wall so he backed out slowly as the fritz skipped across his processor. Glancing around with confusion, whimpering just a little he glanced in again. "I don't understand. I don't understand." He then continued down the hallway and out of the door to walk with increasing speed to Wheeljack's lab, this sweet good sparked and obviously sheltered young mech.

^..^ Meanwhile ...

Ironhide deciding that the best offense was to break the rules began to grind against Ratchet hoping against hope to override the rule about banning interfacing or overloading as a tactic during a prank war. Ratchet whose glitching processor enjoyed every moment of Ironhide's efforts waited patiently.

It wasn't for long.

The warnings flashing across his processor were the first indication that Ratchet had brought game. They began the override protocols that would shut off his libidinous programming for a period of three joors. One by one the fail safes activated and in no more than a nanosecond all of the momentous feelings and needs were gone. In their place was normalcy. At least, the return to himself before their tryst began. He relaxed, hanging his arms by his sides even as he lay his head on Ironhide's shoulder. He waited for the heaving behemoth to notice.

He did.

Looking up, his optics surging streaks of red, his body heating up from his exertions, he stared at Ratchet uncomprehendingly. "What? What's wrong?" he managed as the carefully stoked inferno inside began to bank just a smidge.

"I don't feel it."

Ironhide stared at him, standing a little straighter in surprise though his grip on Ratchet's aft was still as tight as ever. "You **have** to be kidding? You were thrashing all over the place."

"I turned it off."

Ironhide stared at Ratchet and comprehended. "You. Are. Low."

I know," Ratchet said standing straighter himself as he wrapped his arms around Ironhide. He kissed him lingering on his lips. His lips were hot. Ratchet grinned.

Literally hot.

Ironhide gripped him and began again working his mojo in the hopes it would supplant programming. Standing in the doorway watching with an indeterminate expression on his face, Sunstreaker watched silently. The only thing in him that wasn’t silent were his tanks turning over. The whole thing burned itself into his processor so he fled, pausing next to Bluestreak long enough to kiss his lips. Then he was gone, running as fast as his peds could carry him.

Ironhide, meanwhile, did his best. He carried on in the best interests and tradition of the Autobot Army. But it was for naught. He leaned back letting go of Ratchet's aft to glower. "This means war, you know."

"I know," Ratchet said dropping a kiss on Ironhide's lips. "I know, you big glitch head."

"You won't last. New rule. You can't turn off your sexy stuff."

Ratchet guffawed and smiled looking at Ironhide with serious deep affection. "All right. New rule."

"Good," Ironhide said grinning with pure battle lust. "Now I gotta go to the wash wracks, you slagger." With that, he walked to the door, pausing to turn toward the raging center of his universe. His optics rested on Ratchet with a soft expression. "I love you, Ratchet."

Ratchet nodded. "Ditto," he said.

Ironhide grinned. “Don’t tell anyone.” With that he left, leaving the room oddly colder.

"I count on it, you big tool," he said before tending to his other responsibilities once more.

  
  


Chapter 16

-0-In an Autobot's quarters, boy's night in

"I thought my processor would explode. Its bad enough that you know, but to see it..." The expression on Sunstreaker's face was priceless.

Sideswipe who was lounging on his berth ate it up. "What do you expect? They're spark bonded," he said.

"Not in public. Not in front of … of impressionable minds," Sunny whined as he shook his helm with disgust. “Its like watching your genitors … you know.”

"I think it's cute," Sideswipe said as he grinned at his brother’s discomfort.

Sunstreaker shot him a look that could curdle milk. "You didn't see it. You had to be there," he retorted.

"There's worse," Sideswipe said as he considered the couples that existed in the world that could be so much more gruesome than a little Hatchet-Ironhide snogging.

"Name one," Sunstreaker said, goading his brother on.

Sides thought a moment then grinned. "Megatron and Starscream."

Smokescreen who was laying on the other berth with a still sore but essentially healed leg groaned. "That's a picture I don't need in my processor."

"Welcome to **my** world," Sunstreaker said with a smirk. "Actually, imagine it. Megatron and Screamer. I wonder if he is?"

They all groaned as Sideswipe kicked his brother. It settled a moment again.

Then Smokescreen smiled.

"What?" Sunny asked as he settled back against the wall, the ball they used for 'basketball' bouncing in his hands, one to the other. "Tell, Smokey."

Smokescreen had the good grace to look abashed but he said it anyway. "Prime and Prowl."

It was quiet for a moment as the twins and the others mulled it over, then Sunny shook his head. "Prowl in the sack. I don't know. I don't know how you can keep the icicles off your prong."

Groans bloomed like roses in the room as Bumblebee and Blaster joined in, shaking their heads at the golden Lamborghini who was smirking with satisfaction. **"You know it's true!"** he said laughing loudly. "Just ask Starscream."

Laughter greeted that remark.

Then Sideswipe shook his head. "Starscream. What a terrible 'face that would be. I can't imagine."

"He's in a trine with two other idiots," Smokescreen said. "I wonder what a trine would be like?" he asked looking pointedly at Bumblebee as he said it.

Bee with surprise grinned at Smokey like the wiseacre little doodle that he was. "You never know until you ask."

They all laughed out loud noisily, then Blaster elbowed Bee. "His heart belongs to the AllSpark. It's a religion thing. He took a vow," he said as Bee leaned over to shove him to the floor. Blaster laughed loudly but didn't fight the mini-con. He surrendered as Bee sat back up with a huge grin on his face.

"That's you, Bee," Sunstreaker said with a knowing smirk on his face. "Religious."

Guffaws met that remark, then it got quiet for a moment.

"Sunny, how's Blue and when can he get out?" Blaster asked.

"I don't know about getting out but he's doing pretty good. That slaggin' Ravage. If he comes back again, he's mine." The look of predatory hatred on Sunstreaker's face was cautionary.

Then Sideswipe tapped him with his ped. "Do you really think Prime and Prowl are a bad match up?" he asked.

Sunstreaker thought a moment, then shrugged. "He's not my cup of tea. I don't begrudge him wanting to be with someone but I've never seen it."

"I heard he was with Sentinel," Blaster offered as he combed his data banks for details to find nothing firm.

"He's been S.I.C. since before the birth of Unicron. He's been through two Primes before Optimus," Sunny replied. "He's always been paired off with the Prime at hand by everyone with an opinion. It's because our Prowler has no life that anyone can find, even with Perceptor looking."

It was silent a moment.

"That's sad," Bee said. He thought back to his own interactions with Sentinel Prime when he was Sentinel Minor and in charge of his boot camp experience. There were 'misunderstandings' and Bee had found himself in the courtyard one night holding filled fuel barrels in each arm repeating "I'm a worthless oil stain, I'm a worthless oil stain" over and over. He shrugged. "Sentinel is a glitch head. All due respect..." he trailed off.

"You can't get over that moment can you?" Smokescreen said with a grin. "You almost flattened Sentinel when those things tipped over on him. You were lucky you weren't turned into garbage can liners."

"With * **all due respect** *," Bumblebee replied waggling his optic ridges.

They laughed, then Sideswipe thought out loud. "It seems so sad that poor Prowler has no one. Don't you think that's sad?"

To his surprise, most of the room did.

-0-Wheeljack's lab

First Aid sat on the couch, his angst angsting overtime as Wheeljack provided the shoulder. "I don't understand. They’re on, then off, then on again. I can't keep it straight. Its like sitting down among fuel cans and blow torches. You never know what’s going to explode in your face. And I can't get them out of my head wrestling in the lab." He looked at Wheeljack who was looking back at him with a fond gentle expression. "Do you know?"

"I do," Wheeljack said smiling behind his blast mask. "I've known Ratchet for such a long time. When he and Ironhide hooked up, no one could get it for a while and some still don't. But they're spark mates, two sparks destined to be together. They have a public face and a private one, a loving intense private side. You just happened to see them as they are to each other."

First Aid considered that, then shook his head. "It's pretty nice actually. Ironhide **is** sort of huge and interesting."

"That he is," Wheeljack said, laughing. "Most people don't get how smart he is because he's ready to fight at the drop of a hat. That's programming. His family’s from Praxus. He came from colossal money and had the best schooling. He's smart, tactical and could do a lot of things but he likes soldiering best. It's the family occupation among other things. Even his ada’s family is amazingly interesting. The best part of him, the part that glitches your processor comes out around Ratchet. And with Ratchet, the funny side, the good side comes out, too. They compliment each other."

First Aid sat back. "Thank you, Wheeljack. I just wondered if its safe to go back."

"You never know until you try."

He grinned and patted Wheeljack's leg. "Thank you. I better get back. I have to check on Bluestreak."

"How is he?" Wheeljack asked as he stood up, too.

"He's going to be off duty a few orns but he's going to be alright."

"Good," Wheeljack said. He walked First Aid to the door and as he did First Aid turned to look at the engineer. "Uh, the next time you decide to tie one on let me know. I think I need practice on the wild side."

Wheeljack snickered. "I will."

With that, First Aid left the room.

A bubbling sound attracted Wheeljack's attention away from First Aid's nice shapely aft and with a shake of his head, he walked back to the table to work.

-0-At the soldier's barracks

They sat together, soldiers from the same training group polishing and cleaning their gear and weapons. The soldiers who’d left on the mission with the Autobots were being grilled by those who hadn't. They were curious about both it and working with the big bots.

One of them, a big brawny corporal named James 'Big Jim' Johnson listened, his arms crossed over a very muscular chest as his feet rested on his foot locker. "So, what's it like fighting with them?" he asked.

Arne Feltman looked up from the barrel of his rifle held in his hands as he cleaned it, having first broken it down. "Awesome. Ironhide is the man. The mech," he said correcting himself. "All of them are awesome. Bluestreak is just a kid I hear but he's got a pair. And Mirage … the first time I saw him disappear I almost crapped my pants."

Johnson nodded, the oddities appealing even if the delivery system wasn't. "What are they like together? How do they act?"

Feltman glanced at his bunk neighbor, a soldier named Oscar Richards.

Richards shrugged. "They're pros. They know what they're doing and they save it for the battlefield."

"They can communicate together without speaking … something they have inside. That makes their stealth something to see. They also don't seem to have any fear because they'll stand up and fire directly when return fire is incoming. They can take a lot of hits and they self-repair to a degree or so I'm told," Arne Feltman said.

Richards nodded. "I never saw such soldiers before. They forgot more about soldiering than we can learn and their sensors can find the enemy from miles away. I love working with them. They're great teachers and beautiful to watch. Especially the twins. Those two can corner on a dime."

"You didn't go with Ratchet did you?" Johnson asked.

"No. He was with the Prague squad that went with the Prime. We were with Ironhide, Bluestreak, Sideswipe and Mirage. That was a blow out. You should have seen Ironhide's cannons destroy that building. There was nothing left when he was finished. Watching him take Ravage apart was amazing."

"I went to Prague with Ratchet and the others," Tom Seldon said glancing at Johnson as he reached for his beer. Polishing stuff was thirsty work. "Why?"

"I just heard a lot of stuff about that one and I wondered what he's really like. From our perspective," Johnson replied.

"He's one tough bastard and a sweet ride," Seldon said oblivious to the double entendre as he considered the seats in the Hummer that was Ratchet. They formed to fit your backside and that was awesome in his book among other things.

Johnson grinned. "I guess I'd have to ask Ironhide about that."

The three soldiers glanced up at him various expressions of surprise and distaste on their faces. They glanced at each other, all of them having heard disparaging remarks from the soldier and his friend, Sam Hedges, before. They were perpetually on the wrong side of Epps and Lennox and it was considered likely that they'd be cut if they didn't change or learn to shut their faces.

"That kind of remark will get you cut from here," Oscar said glaring at the big soldier. "You'd deserve it, too. You have a problem that they won’t allow to be here when they figure it out. The relationship trumps everything. They told us when we came here and they mean it. Lennox will scrub you no matter what if you keep this shit up.”

"I'm good at what I do. I can shoot, run and jump just about as well as anyone here. Better," Johnson said without a shred of humility. “Lennox needs me.”

"Does he remind you of someone?" Feltman asked the others with a grin.

"He sure does," Oscar said with a chuckle. "Your favorite car doesn't happen to be a Lamborghini does it?"

"Which ones are the Lamborghinis?" Johnson asked after thinking for a moment.

"Man, you don't even have them **memorized**? What kind of problem do you **have** , Johnson?" Feltman asked as his irritation boiled over. He liked Sideswipe. Most of them did. They were aware of his vain mercurial brother and although he wasn't the most liked Autobot he was feared and respected for his unbelievable skills and courage. Sunstreaker was, in short, afraid of nothing.

"I don't **have** a problem," Johnson said picking up his beer to sip it. " **They** do."

"How?" Oscar asked with incredulity as he paused in his effort.

“First of all, where are the girls? There’s no women. What’s with that? They have weird relationships and they do weird shit. Don’t tell me you don’t see it, too. Ironhide and Ratchet are … they’re not natural.”

As he spoke, Sam Hedges came through the door and walked toward them. He sat on his bunk in nervous agitation, then tapped Johnson on the arm. "There's an Autobot outside. He wants to speak to you."

Johnson looked at him with surprise. "Which one? Who?" he asked with a trace of concern in his voice.

Finally.

"The yellow Lamborghini," Hedges said. "He's outside and he's locked and loaded. What the **fuck** did you **do** to him?"

Johnson sat up as concern finally showed up on his face. "Nothing. What does he want?"

"He wants to talk to you. **Why?** I wasn't going to ask the bastard. He's asking for **you** , not me." Hedges got up to walk to the window to peer outside.

A huge Autobot was there standing on his wheel skates, all twenty-five feet two inches, two point nine metric tons of lethal front-liner gleaming in the sunlight. Sunstreaker was waiting, his battle blades retracting into and disgorging out from his wrists as his door wings flared then resided with what they took for irritation. He looked good, really good and gleamed a brilliant yellow, waxed and beautiful as he waited for Johnson.

The others including four soldiers who were talking together at the other end of the barracks came forward to look out the window together. They glanced back at Johnson with concern on their faces when they saw who it was outside.

Sunstreaker.

The 'crazy one'.

They moved aside as Johnson came closer to stare out the window, a paler shade of himself than before. "I'm not going out there."

"Have you considered the possibility that if he wants you badly enough this barracks won't hold him out?" Oscar said as he watched all manner of emotions play across the big tough's face. "What the **hell** did you do to him?"

 **"Nothing!** I didn't **do** a **thing**!" Johnson said as fear finally broke across his face.

"I'll go out," Feltman said tossing his rifle barrel onto his bunk. He began to go as Johnson stepped in front of him. "Are you **nuts**? **Look at him.** He could **kill you** just by stepping on you."

"Why would he? He isn't **asking** for **me** and **I** didn't do anything to **him** ," Feltman said removing Johnson's hand from his chest.

"He's an **alien**. You don't even **know** what pisses him off," Johnson said turning to watch as seven foot swords slid in and out of Sunny's wrist gauntlets. He was turning small irritated circles as he waited, his face returning with each movement to remain on the barracks.

" **I** didn't piss him off and **I'm** not a coward," Feltman said pushing past Johnson. He walked to the door and collected himself as he assumed his game face. He opened the door and walked outside catching the big mech's attention right away.

They watched as he walked to Sunstreaker to holler up to him. They watched as the big mech bent down, his fearsome face framed with peaks and other metallic embellishments that swept from his jawline up to the top of his head as he moved close to Feltman. He looked as ferocious and exotic as anything that any of them had ever seen. He was alive, metallic and terrifying.

His blue optics were intent on the conversation he was having with Feltman and from time to time he would glance up to stare at the barracks. They could hear the sound of a high octane engine rev, then die down. After a few minutes, they could see another mech rolling in on tire skates, an exact match of Sunstreaker.

"Oh, fuck. Here comes Sideswipe," Hedges said moving back from the window.

"Count that as a good sign," Oscar said glancing at the two men. "Sides is the easy one."

Chapter 17

  
  


-0-Outside the soldier's barracks

"Oh, fuck. Here comes Sideswipe," Hedges said moving back from the window.

"Count that as a good sign," Oscar said glancing at the two men. "Sides is the easy one."

-0-Nearby

**"Hey, Lennox!"**

Will Lennox looked up from his pile of reports, the inevitable outcome of a mission. "What, Deb?"

"Sunstreaker and Sideswipe are at the barracks. Sunny doesn't look happy and Sides looks like he's trying to put out a fire." Sargent Quimby, an Air Force mechanic stood at the door at the end of his barracks leaning in with a concerned expression on her face. "I thought you might want to go and see what's up."

Lennox sat a moment as the information percolated in his startled mind, then he exploded from his chair and ran for the door. "Thanks, Deb," he shouted as he ran past her, down the corridor and out onto the tarmac.

He ran as fast as he could, rounding a hangar to head toward the enlisted men’s communal barracks that housed the soldiers that rotated in and out of N.E.S.T. Striker teams. He could see the two behemoths, both of them arguing together as Arne Feltman stood below looking up at them.

He ran faster.

-0-At the Autobot Med Bay

Bluestreak sat on the berth as First Aid ran even more tests to make sure that his patient was not only A-OK but meticulously in first class condition. It was his nature to fix things and nurture them, making sure that even if they were good he could nudge them to greatness. He was a Protectobot, a member of a very good Autobot combiner, a first class mechanical doctor but a feared one because of his obsessive concern about his patient's welfare. He often keeping them in Med Bay longer than they required. He was even known to repair non-sentient machines out of a sympathy for their 'suffering'.

If there was a toaster or coffeemaker broken within fifty miles of him, he would seek it out.

Blue who was a sweet accommodating mech sat quietly watching as First Aid fritzed and fussed, tweaking this and dialing that. He was waiting for Sunstreaker, his protector, friend, lover and confidante. For Sunny, he was cheerleader, soother, secret keeper and fiercely defended partner. It was often in that order but he didn't mind. He could see the goodness in the big bot that too many others didn't but then, Bluestreak saw the goodness in everyone. "Have you seen Sunstreaker?" he asked as he tipped his helm at First Aid's request.

"He's been in a lot but you were offline."

Blue smiled warmed by the thought. "I guessed he'd be here by now."

"He was but he went to the soldier's barracks for a moment," First Aid said removing a number of plug ins to enter data on a datapad.

"Why would he go to the…" Bluestreak paused his musing and sat up straighter. "Oh slag." He pulled the last two plugs out and hopped down, turning to First Aid. "I have to go. I have to go to the Soldier's barracks, First Aid. Sorry," he said then limped away as fast as his repaired but still painful legs could take him.

" **Bluestreak! Get back here**!" First Aid said staring after him. He looked around himself for a moment, then hurried after Bluestreak.

-0-Soldier's barracks

Lennox slowed down, breathless as much from fear as exertion. The two Autobots and Feltman turned to look at him. He halted to rest his hands on his knees as he bent over to catch his breath. He rose and looked at the bots and Feltman, trying to gauge the situation.

Sideswipe grinned as he rolled around Lennox regarding him with mirth. "You're out of shape, Lennox."

"You calling me a wimp?" Lennox replied with a smile.

A pause occurred as the two bots accessed the correct data files. They grinned simultaneously. "Yes," they said together.

Feltman walked to Lennox, gazing up at the two Autobots. "Sunstreaker wants to speak with Jim Johnson."

"Why do you want to speak with our guys, Sunstreaker? I gotta know as their commanding officer," Lennox said straightening finally as he got his second wind.

Sunstreaker regarded Lennox, one of about a handful of humans for whom he had any real regard. Lennox was alright. "I hear rumors, Lennox."

His deep tones were filled with menace but then they always were to most human ears. He had a deep guttural masculine baritone, just like Sideswipe but Sides was always lighter in tone, always more amiable.

"What kind of rumors, Sunstreaker? Maybe I can help you."

Sunstreaker looked at the barracks, at the soldiers crowded around the windows and unsheathed his swords again, smiling with feral glee as some of them stood back from the glass. He rolled around the group turning his head to make sure he never lost sight of the building. He was taunting them, challenging and showing power in the face of his enemies, some of whom truly were. He halted, then looked down at Lennox. "Maybe. Maybe not."

"There's rumors that some of your soldiers are talking slag about us behind our backs," Sideswipe said, his less threatening persona bringing the temperature down a bit. "Some of them are talking slag about our relationships and us in general. We don't **like** it, Will," he said watching in the corner of his optic as Robert Epps jogged toward them stopping breathlessly beside Lennox.

"What's going on?" he asked. Lennox filled him in. He looked with concern at the two Autobots.

"Who are the soldiers? Do you know?" Will asked them, already aware of the answer.

"Some fraggers called Johnson and Hedges," Sunny said, his expression turning to the calm he usually had on his face just before entering battle. "I don't like them, Will. We're fraggin' front-liners and warriors. All of our side are the same kind. We don't need some stupid little meat sacks slaggin' us behind our backs, running down what we can do and who we are. I don't think I need to hear about some puny little fraggers slagging our species when we're bleeding and getting wounded protecting this little marble. We get enough of that from Galloway."

"No, you don't, Sunny," Will said agreeing wholeheartedly. "If you'd let me, I'd like to take care of it. I'll do that because I agree with you and I apologize for any offense that you and the others might feel."

"I'd like them to come out first. I want to see their faces when they know that we know. I want them to tell us to our faces that they think we're lesser beings," Sunstreaker said.

"Will's going to take care of it, Sunny," Sideswipe interjected, rolling to stand by Sunny's side. He touching his arm as he turned to face him directly.

Sunny shook his head. "I want to see them."

"If we bring them out, is there going to be anything I have to worry about here? Is there going to be a fight, Sunny, because if there is I can't allow it." Lennox finished as he looked up to the two Autobots, Sideswipe's tense posture and Sunstreaker's angry one going off like beacons in the dark.

He didn't know what he could do but he had to project his command authority even if it meant that it wouldn't do a damned thing about this situation. Sunstreaker was a berserker front-liner but he was also a highly trained professional soldier.

Most of the time.

He had to do what he could to make sure his own soldiers were safe.

"Do you think I'd kill them?" Sunstreaker asked as his expression turned sour. "If that was my goal you'd still be searching for their body parts."

Lennox stared at him, then Sideswipe who gave him a barely perceptible nod. "All right. I'll get them. Wait here." He nodded to Epps who stayed outside with Feltman, then walked to the door to enter.

Outside, standing together tensely, the two Autobots waited. Inside, equally tensely, Lennox called for Hedges and Johnson.

Epps waited silently half in and half out of the doorway.

By then coming from the other direction, Niall Graham entered out of breath and filled with concerned. "Will, what's going on?"

"Johnson and Hedges here have pissed off Sunstreaker," Lennox said with a voice filled with rage.

"Oh god," Graham said moving to the window. "What now?"

"They want to speak to both of them," Epps said, his eyes never leaving the two men's faces. "They're going outside so we can diffuse this shit."

"The ***hell*** I will," Johnson said.

Lennox moved in on Johnson, standing nose-to-nose with the big man. "The hell you ***will***. Tell me what you did and said, both of you, to bring this down. Do it now or I promise you, you'll be in a world of ugly."

Johnson swallowed, Hedges wavered but neither spoke.

Tom Seldon and Richards stepped closer. Seldon shook his head with disgust. "They’ve been talking trash about Ratchet and Ironhide. I even heard shit about Optimus Prime and Prowl. They were also making statements about the Autobots in general that were bullshit."

Hedges looked at Feltman in fury. "Prove it."

"We don't have to," Lennox said. "The proof is outside. Sunstreaker doesn't care for humans and don’t forget, idiots ... they can hear a dog sigh fifty miles away. He wouldn't be here if he didn't hear something and I’d remind you, he asked for you **by name** , **both** of you. I think that's enough proof for me. How about you?" he asked glancing at a very grim faced Epps and Graham.

They nodded, shifting with rage and frustrated fear about what would happen next.

"Now here's what you're going to do,” Lennox said. “You're going out there with Graham, Epps and me and you're going to stand there and take whatever shit they dump on you. You'll **not** move, you'll **not** make any remarks back. You will ***take*** it. And when we're done you'll pack your shit up.

“You're going out on the next transport. You’re scrubbed from the program for your stupidity and attitudes which go against the cohesion we need to survive against the Decepticons. I'm telling them so as well. We have a good relationship with the Autobots. They're warriors and comrades. We don't need you two here fucking things up with your bullshit. Are there any **questions**?"

"They'll ***kill*** us," Hedges said anxiously.

Johnson swallowed hard, the muscles of his jawline moving spasmodically with nerves and fear.

"Do you really believe that if they were here to kill you that you'd still be **alive**? Is there a building on this base that would save you from them? They're front-liners. They would get you with their last dying gasp. Now **do** what I **said.** Walk out with your mouth shut, take the licking you earned and don't make any and I mean ***any*** movements that can be misunderstood. Then we'll come in here and help you **pack** ," Lennox said as his rage became a calm cold thing.

The two men who were shaking slightly in spite of their bluff nodded as they pulled themselves together with effort. Then with dread in their steps, they followed Graham, Lennox, and Epps out of the door to the tarmac beyond. The other soldiers filled with a terrible dread flocked to the windows to watch.

Meanwhile, back on the tarmac rushing toward the scene in front of the barracks, Bluestreak was followed by First Aid, himself hurrying along with dread and fear on his face too.

Chapter 18

  
  


/… Hi.../ thought bubbles

-0-In Ops Center, Autobot Command Complex

Prowl sat at the sensor terminal next to Teletraan II as a thousand essential Autobot Army details percolated through his processor. As he considered them, an innocuous personal subroutine was turning over a very pretty penny elsewhere in his helm. On one side was the handsome face of his beloved Optimus Prime and on the other the Pit.

Since coming back to sentience from his little 'indiscretion', he’d been filled with conflicting emotions. First and foremost, he was **never** going to over-energize again.

Ever.

Apparently, a family of mice had entrance to Wheeljack's lab. He knew when he was trying to clean up in the wash racks that next morning. There were small animal tracks on his face.

He still shuddered.

Secondly, Ratchet in full prank war mode was terrifying. He, himself preferred tangible knowable fact-type data. He preferred the reality-based world with all its reality things. The World of War Coots that was Ironhide v Ratchet was filled to the brim with unforeseeable outcomes and non-predictable moments of sublime terror for a bot who considered himself a rational thinker. The convoluted tracks that wend themselves through the processor of the Chief Medical Officer had too many pot holes for him to drive safely through that weird terrain.

He wasn't good at chaos.

Yet in his moment of distress, when he was sure he couldn't find his way back from the Pit, he’d reached up and Ratchet had taken his hand. To make it worse, Ratchet had somehow divined his interest and attentive considerations … his admiration and affection … what did Ratchet say it was? … 'a soul destroying need to face like a cyber bunny' with the Prime.

He swallowed as he looked around the room, checking that his lapse of attention hadn't drawn any attention. Settling once more, holding his datapad up again though unaware that it was upside down, he considered that remark. He **did** admire the Prime, a selfless dignified individual upon whom all the hopes of their people here and everywhere else were pinned. It didn’t matter that he had never really followed all of his carefully wrought plans to the Nth degree which would have brought about victory ***IF HE HAD*** … maybe … he really had to work on his bitterness, he thought.

Where was he … oh right. Optimus Prime’s holiness ...

He wanted to be significantly important personally, someone who could ease the burdens of the Prime when he was off duty as well as on and help him face the dark loneliness of such pressure with a happier step. That he wanted Prime to bend him over the nearest solid object and have his unfettered way didn't surface beyond that small firewall protected document dump in the bottom of his processor stem.

His ada would slap the slag out of him if he knew his one and only son was capable of such profound blasphemy … ***AS IF HE WOULD EVER TELL ANYONE!***

Even himself half the time ...

He glanced tensely around again seeing no one doing anything but their job.

Even Jazz.

Jazz...

He was willing to risk his relationship with Mirage to help him 'land the big one' as Ratchet so crassly put it. He felt a shudder wafting through his circuits as he considered the possibility that this could explode in his face. But that possibility didn't seem like a problem to Ratchet because he said that Prime wanted him.

***PRIME*!**

Their gracious leader™ **actually** wanted **him** **or so that mad mech said.**

** Out loud.  **

**To him in a very vulnerable** ****position ..**** **.**

/ ...memo to self … clean the wastebasket in his quarters .../

He could hardly square it with the professional demeanor they had together. But then he couldn't square Kup or Springer either. He knew that Prime had pulled that prank on Ironhide and it was technically brilliant but it hardly seemed to mesh with the dignity that always informed Prime to him.

Obviously, he **had** to get out more.

A heavy footfall on the command deck drew his optics and he froze as the imposing inspirational figure of Optimus Prime entered the great room. He watched transfixed as Prime walked to him and smiled slightly. "Prowl, we have a problem and I think you will be the best to do the preliminary investigating," he said, his sonorous baritone sending sparkly things tingling over Prowl's dermal layer.

He nodded, rising as he quashed his libidinous programming. "Of course, sir. What would you have me do?"

/ … anything.../

"There appears to be an incident at the N.E.S.T. enlisted men's barracks," he said.

/ … why are you holding that datapad upside down, Prowl? .../

"What sort of incident?" Prowl asked shifting to business mode.

/ … need I ask? .../

"Apparently the twins and some soldiers who have been talking badly about us are in an argument," Prime answered as he took the datapad from Prowl. He grinned as he looked with hope for any change in Prowl's expressive deeply handsome face that might indicate any interest whatsoever in himself.

"I'll get right on it," Prowl replied as he swallowed hard. "I'll be going now."

/... go ... stay ... go ... stay .../

"Fine," Prime said.

/ … stay.../

"Uh, here I go," Prowl said wincing slightly at his own social ineptitude and all around doofusness. He walked soundlessly across the room and out the door.

Prime watched him go, admiring his light-footed tread, his smartly shining elegant wings and his aft swaying as he walked away.

/... oh Primus ... I need to get out more .../

Jazz who was sitting nearby working through data from their raid for the special ops section of the report due in three orns shook his head with a smirk.

/... hopeless.../

-0-Enlisted Men's Barracks

They stepped out into the warm sunlight, the two Autobots stopping their circling motions to come closer to stare at the small group of organics. Will Lennox, his heart pounding in his chest looked at Sunstreaker and Sideswipe. "I have them here and they're prepared to not only listen to whatever you wish to say about their actions, they're going to personally apologize to you before they ship out."

"Ship out?" Sideswipe asked with surprise. He glanced at Sunstreaker who was looking at the group as if they were a messy mistake in one of his brilliant perfectly rendered art pieces.

"They're going to be leaving N.E.S.T.," Will said. "We hold our alliance with you and the Autobots in the highest regard. We won't allow anything to sully that, no way, no how."

Sunstreaker with his seven foot swords glistening in full extension with tips braced on the concrete stared at them, then Lennox. "A good partial solution."

"The only one for us," Niall said, his expression as serious as a heart attack which at the moment he thought he would have. "We're all for one or you're out."

"Until all are one," Sideswipe said nodding as a smile formed on his face. "That's what it has to be."

"I want you to tell us just what we've heard you saying here and there among the meat sacks," Sunstreaker said only partially appeased. "I want to hear your insults to our warriors and our way of life **to my face**."

Sideswipe looked from Lennox to the soldiers behind him. "Who is this Johnson and Hedges?"

Lennox turned to the two men with a look on his face that lent no confusion to what he expected them to do. "Johnson and Hedges. Front and center."

The two hesitated, then stepped forward to stand at rigid attention, their eyes forward as they stared into the ether. They were pale and small to the bots and even the other humans there.

The two Autobots looked at them with expressions of disgust.

"Talk," Lennox said as he stood at parade rest while acute embarrassment formed on his handsome face.

" ***Sir*** , I respectfully decline to speak, ***sir*,** " Johnson said, his affect one of steely resistance.

Hedges, his voice trembling just slightly repeated the same phrase.

Lennox turned on them with surprise and anger. He glared at them both, repeating his order and they in turn 'respectfully' declined. It was at impasse.

That was when Bluestreak finally caught up to the twins and the soldiers.

The soldiers in the barracks saw him first and waved their arms to Lennox to warn him.

Lennox who was confused a moment looked the direction they were pointing. Bluestreak who was limping slightly with a small expression of pain reached them as Sunstreaker turned with surprise.

"Blue," he said.

Bluestreak who was unsure of the situation took Sunstreaker's arms and held them as he looked from Sideswipe to Lennox to Sunstreaker again. "Sunny, what's going on? Is there going to be trouble?"

Sunstreaker who felt his anger rising again pulled Bluestreak close to him, then looked at the soldiers as he did. "A couple of these organic fraggers have a problem with us and our way of life. They think they can slag you and me, Blue."

Bluestreak looked at them, frowning as he recognized Feltman and Richards. "You do?" he asked, a tone of hurt in his voice.

"No," Lennox said quickly. "Not the soldiers who were on the last operation. Not Feltman or Richards. None of them. Its these two slaggers who're going to be leaving here as soon as they apologize."

Feltman and Richards nodded, their expressions intently professing agreement. "Not us, Blue. These two idiots," Oscar Richards said from the doorway.

"We **love** to work with you guys. Both of us. All of us, Blue. Don't mistake these two bastards with the rest of us. We think being here, working with you Autobots is the apex of our careers. Remember that," Arne Feltman said as Tom Seldon nodded emphatically.

Others in the window did as well.

Blue relaxed. Then he stared at Johnson and Hedges in dismay and surprise. "Okay," he said.

It was then when Prowl reached the enlisted men's barracks and the gathering group of Autobots and soldiers.

-0-Ironhide

He sat on a large metal trailer which was left outside the Autobot complex for that very reason. The sun was warm and he was needy. The prank war he was having with Ratchet had very specific rules that had been worked out between them over a large and fulsome number of millenniums. One of the biggest was that anyone who said no 'facing could ensure that neither side would be especially happy during that portion of the ordeal, thus bringing it to a conclusion before either rusted shut.

Ironhide was not happy as he considered the list of rules they’d made over the long period of hilarity called their spark bond. Another rule, one of the most important and utilized was that they 'faced after every battle when they were together.

During the long defeat for Cybertron, they’d been separated, exhausted and unable to feel or touch each other beyond their bond link many an eon, so that rule was born. If they were going to go to the Matrix it would be with few regrets. Having that personal connection was a way to ensure that both knew the worth of the other come what may.

Pranking was the Pit now, however. Pranking was beginning to be a burden rather than one of the two or three great joys of life. Ratchet was one, blowing up things, especially Decepticons was another and pranks. Well, they were 'the shit' as the soldiers liked to say.

Soldiers.

Fraggin' soldiers.

They were the reason that this whole thing happened and it rankled. Will Lennox should have his soldiers in line better, he mused. He rose, stretching the kinks from his cables and started out for the enlisted man's barracks where he could usually find Lennox, Epps and Graham. Anyone of them was good enough to vent upon and he needed to before he threw a rod. He hadn't had a chance to rant at the soldiers since that first moment when they made the fatal mistake of slagging Ratchet.

There were some inexcusable things that mattered in Ironhide's world. A messy munition, watered down high grade and fragging with Ratchet. He picked up his step as his ire rose, determined to get a few things off his chassis. He headed toward the barracks along with a number of others bent for the same topic with the soldiers.

-0-Med Bay

Ratchet came out of his office and glanced to where Bluestreak should still be. He wasn't. Neither was First Aid. He felt the Wrath of Hatchet rising inside so he opened his sensors to look for First Aid and Bluestreak, finding them, at all places, the enlisted man's barracks.

And Prowl.

Prowl was there.

And Ironhide was almost there.

And the twins. They were there already.

With Bluestreak.

And First Aid and Prowl.

And soon-to-be Ironhide.

This couldn't be good he thought as he subspaced his datapad, grabbed an emergency first aid kit and hustled his peds out the door to the enlisted man's barracks.

Chapter 19

-0-At the enlisted men's barracks

By the time that Ironhide made it to the enlisted men's barracks the wrath of Unicron had descended. The twins who were first to arrive could see that the two miscreants were not going to 'man up' and do the right thing.

Sideswipe whose sympathy with Epps and Lennox was greater tried to talk Sunstreaker into accepting that as sufficient.

"They're **going** , Sunny," Sideswipe said.

Sunstreaker wasn't having any of it. "They slagged **Blue** , Sideswipe. They slagged him and Ratchet and the others."

Blue who was standing beside Sunstreaker with a servo on his arm looked worriedly at the two even as he found himself warmed by Sunny's wrath.

Ironhide coming closer peered downward into the circle of Autobots to spot Lennox. "I want to talk to you, Lennox. I want to know what you're going to do about the slagging they gave Ratchet."

Lennox who was looking up swallowed hard. He felt like he was back in California walking through the Avenue of the Giants surrounded by Sequoia Gigantus trees on all sides.

Extremely pissed off, fully armed unappeased Gigantus trees.

As Lennox started to talk to Ironhide, Prowl stepped forward then turned to the twins. A look that could peel paint off walls crossed his face.

Blue and Sideswipe stepped backwards but Sunstreaker held his ground.

Blue tugged on his arm with an expression of worry compromising his youthful face. "Come on, Sunny. Let's step back and let Prowl sort this out

"Prowl?" Sunny said as he raised his voice in ire. "He's one of the targets. Prowl and Prime."

Everyone stopped their chatter, freezing in place with shock.

Prowl stared at Sunny, his expression revealing no trace of the body blow that remark made. "Step back and calm down. We'll solve this peacefully."

"They mocked you and ***Prime*** , Prowl," Sunstreaker said, his expression one of distaste and sympathetic anger.

Prowl unaccustomed to being defended by one of the most irritating and consistently disruptive Autobots under his command glanced around then down at Lennox who looked like a man who’d lost control of his car and was just waiting for the impact to shatter his face.

"They mocked us, they mocked **you** and **Prime** and they mocked **Ratchet** ," Sunny said as he folded his arms in front of his chassis, Bluestreak's grip not withstanding. "Maybe **you** don't mind but **I** do."

" **Who** mocked me, the slaggers?"

Everyone glanced around to stare at Ratchet who had come up unnoticed in the tirade, pausing just behind Ironhide.

"I want to discuss that," Ironhide said unconsciously moving to stand in front of Ratchet. "I don't appreciate my bond being a joke."

" **Who's** a slagging joke?" Ratchet asked with hands on hips and anger rising in him like fog over a pond. "What the **frag** is going on here?"

"Alright," Prowl said trying to assert his command authority. "Everyone stand down."

"I want to know what you're going to do," Sunny said leaning toward Prowl. "I don't appreciate Bluestreak being slagged. **Or** our life. **Or** the idea that who we're with is a big joke to someone else. Who the frag are **they** to criticize **us**? We're here helping them against the fraggin' Decepticons and **this is the thanks we get**?"

"Sunny," Sideswipe said rolling to stand in front of his brother. "They're going to be sent away."

" **So what**?" Sunny said. "The damage is done. They've all heard the jokes ... they've all heard the slag. How are we supposed to trust them in combat?"

"I agree."

They all turned around to look at First Aid who regretted his remarks immediately, stepping back to the rear of the Autobot group with a self deprecating gesture of his servos.

"I agree, too," Ratchet said nodding his encouragement to First Aid. "How are we supposed to trust the soldiers if they think we're a joke? And why the frag do you find us so damned funny?"

It was finally silent as Prowl turned in a slow futile circle trying to regain the upper hand and failing. He stopped as the Autobots turned toward Lennox, Epps and Graham to stare down at them as one.

Epps looked at Lennox, then stepped slightly back to be joined by Graham.

Lennox looked at them, his exasperation on full glorious display. **"What? Get up here, too!"** he said.

" **You're** the senior officer," Graham said smirking slightly. "Lead."

Epps nodded.

Lennox licking suddenly dry lips looked up at a forest of aliens, their blue optics staring holes through his carcass. "I'm sorry. I don't know why. I don't know why some of our own people hate others of our own people for things that don't matter. I'd hope after all that we've been through that you'd know how much we appreciate and respect you. I and the two others of us here," he said gesturing to Epps and Graham who nodded pointedly, "know what you do and we care about you and your well being.

“I apologize for what's happened and we'll do our best to repair the relationship," he said glancing over his shoulder to give a heated look at Johnson and Hedges, "first by cutting our loses with the main offenders."

"That's a start," Sunny persisted. "But what about the rest of you? How many of the rest of you feel the same way? I'm not going to apologize or be embarrassed about me and Blue. We're together and we'll stay together. If you don't like it frag off."

"This whole mess started when those two slagged Ratchet," Ironhide said pointing at the two soldiers standing behind Graham.

" **What?** " Ratchet said. "You never told **me** that."

"Why would I tell you that?" Ironhide asked as he turned to face Ratchet. "You don't **need** to know that sort of thing."

" **Why not**? What if I'm supposed to fight with these two idiots? How can I know they think I'm pit spawn and how can I know they'll cover me under fire?"

"That's the problem," Ironhide said turning back to lean down toward Lennox, Epps and Graham. "I came here to discuss that. I don't appreciate Ratchet being a joke to anyone let alone someone I'm supposed to trust on the battlefield."

"Look at us," Sideswipe said shaking his head. "We're **not** you. We're **us**. This is who we're **supposed** to be and we act like we're **supposed** to act. We come from a different world. **We're fraggin'** **metallic for Primus sake!** We’re not organic like you and we never, ever will be. We don't have too many of your ways but most of us have learned as much as we can about you and how you act. **Some** of us anyway," he said glancing with a smirk at his brother. "We did it so we can be a team because that's how we know we can stay alive and win.

"We've been a team for each other for longer than you can imagine. We deserve respect and if you can't accept how we are, especially the personal relationships some of us have because this is what we **truly** are, imagine how **we** feel about some of **your** slag? But I also hope you noticed that we haven't dumped on you or let it affect us in combat. No matter what you think you know about us, know that we're professionals."

It was silent a moment then Lennox sighed. "You and us, we're brothers-in-arms. I felt it from the beginning. I’d hope you understand that holds even now. The three of us, we stay here because we want to work with you, because we respect you and even more, we care about and like you.

“We turned down promotions and other assignments because we like this job and working with you. I'm sorry for the stupidity of a few. I don't want the relationship that we've built up in blood and effort to be compromised. That's why these two," he said turning to nod to Johnson and Hedges, "are taking the next plane out of here."

"And the others? The soldiers who listened and heard their slag?" Sunny persisted.

"We **personally** will take care of that," Graham said looking from one to the next with a deeply serious expression on his face.

"Very well," Prowl said. "We can talk further about how we can span this rift and build a closer relationship between you and us. We understand how alien we must be in some regards but that's a two way street."

Lennox nodded. "Thank you, Prowl. We look forward to it. Right now, these two are **out** of here." He turned to look at them. "Get packing. **Now**."

They turned together to walk stiffly into the building, the hoots of the twins following them.

Lennox then looked up staring into the faces of the others. "Can we do anything more now or are we okay?"

"There ***is*** something else. I want to know what some slagger said about me." Ratchet stepped from behind Ironhide, his servos on his hips while metaphorical smoke came out of his audials.

"Oh, Primus," Ironhide whispered softly.

"Truce," Prowl said turning to the Autobots. "Everyone, let's go and let Captain Lennox, Sargent Epps and Lieutenant Graham do their job."

They began to walk off together grumbling loudly as Prowl stayed behind to tidy up loose ends.

Ratchet walking beside Ironhide smirked at him. "So you came here to defend my honor?"

"Of course," Ironhide said, his servo moving to its normal non-combat position, the small of Ratchet's back.

"My hero," Ratchet said with a snicker.

"Of course," Ironhide said rising to the moment. "I'm Ironhide, **front line berserker** , Prime's go-to right servo mech and all around Chaos Bringer of the Autobots."

"I can't argue with that," Ratchet said fondly.

"Damned straight," Ironhide said with a smile as they walked together toward home.

  
  


Chapter 20

  
  


-0-Outside the door of Prime's office later that morning

Prowl gathered himself feeling uncharacteristically nervous. Usually his neediness was suppressed under multiple layers of conditioned reflex so he could come and go around the Prime with only minimal acknowledgment of his growing feelings. Now? Not so much. He felt nerves on his nerves as he reached for the door handle. Rapping lightly, he waited.

Dulcet tones, that warm rich baritone replied: "Come."

At that remark if he had been human he might have from the tone alone. He snickered silently as he committed a rash bit of humorous impulsiveness and almost sexy innuendo.

For him.

Then he gathered himself, quashing his human slang files down onto the bottom most layers of his information filing system. Apparently he was losing his grip and that wasn't good, not good at all.

Opening the door with head and red chevron held high, he walked in all business. "Good morning, sir," he said, his own well modulated tenor sending rippling tingles up and down the neural epidermis of his leader.

Of course, he didn't know that.

"Prowl," Prime said as a warm smile infused his handsome face. It sent little tingly things up and down Prowl's epidermal plates, too, but of course Prime didn't know that either. "What happened at the enlisted men's barracks? I would have gone myself but General Morshower needed some information on Prague."

Prowl vented a sigh as he sat on a chair next to the desk, his knee just **this** much removed from Prime's. He swallowed. "It was a … how shall I put this ..."

"Fiasco?" Prime offered as he grinned broadly. He leaned back in his chair as he laced his fingers together ready to be amused to Hell and back.

"Good choice," Prowl said as a small smile formed on his lips.

Prime stared at those lips, the smoothness, the fullness, the softness. He assumed the softness. He hadn't kissed them before.

Yet.

Hopefully.

He quashed his libidinous programming. "Sounds like fun. What are the details? All of them."

Prowl looked up from his datapad for a second as Prime shrugged. "

I need to know what is going on in case this gets out of hand and in case questions come up about it. The twins are very intimidating, after all."

Prowl nodded. "It appears that Sunstreaker has been hanging around where soldiers congregate to listen in. He found out that a number of them were repeating and telling disparaging remarks about us, especially those of us in what they consider 'icky' relationships."

"Icky?" Prime asked searching for the relevant citation. He found it. He frowned. "What is 'icky' about our relationships?"

"Apparently there's a strong element of homophobia in this culture, a stronger affect of it in the military and some people are overt in their personal expressions about it. Male and male relationships and femme and femme relationships aren’t held in high esteem on this planet in very many places."

They sat quietly together a moment each thinking about the strangeness of such thinking. It did not exist among the Cybertronians.

"Bad way to get to Sunstreaker, slagging Bluestreak," Prime said quietly.

"I'm not so fond of that myself," Prowl said with an uncharacteristically hard tone to his voice. He’d practically raised the youngster upon finding him wandering dazed and wounded in the aftermath of the destruction of Praxus, his own personal home town as well.

The Praxians among the Autobots had searched long and hard among the debris and dead of their great city to find anyone at all who had survived the annihilation. Prowl had found Bluestreak, hurt, dazed, and mumbling to himself about how he had to go home and find his mother. He had taken Prowl's servo and they had left the dead behind going to an Autobot triage center for help.

For days, Bluestreak followed Prowl everywhere clinging to him, needing him and by the time they left, Bluestreak had become the son that Prowl had never had.

Prowl had made it his responsibility to take care of Blue including 600 years of therapy with Rung and to help him defend himself as part of their army. Blue had never from that moment on been separated from Prowl. Prowl had made sure of it. The hurt and heartache that he, Ironhide and other Praxians felt was assuaged in the good nature and kind youthfulness of Bluestreak.

"Sunny went there to find them," Prowl acknowledged. "Sideswipe was right behind him. He helped."

"Helped?" Prime asked, his optic ridges crooking in surprise.

"Actually, he tried to reason with Sunstreaker."

"I see. Did you find out who was making the remarks and their rationale for doing so?" Prime asked as he gazed with fondness and longing at the red chevron on Prowl's brow when the handsome bot bent his helm to look at the datapad in his hands.

/... so beautiful … I love red … I have a lot of red on me, myself … I wonder how Prowl feels about red? ... I am told it is a good color for me .../

Prowl scrutinized the pad in his hands, aware of the gaze of his commander on his person. He was glad he’d taken a bit of time that morning in the wash racks. The image of mice standing on his face would take a long time in passing. "It was a couple of soldiers, a Johnson and Hedges. They were brought out to apologize and appease the troops as it were but they refused even under orders."

A surprised look crossed Prime's face as Prowl nodded in agreement. "Hot heads on both sides, I see," Prime said grinning slightly.

"It would appear so, sir," Prowl said as the ghost of a smile crossed his lips. "They put their officers on the spot and for that and other reasons they're already on their way back to other shores."

"Lennox sent them away?" Prime said as his optic ridges jotted upward. "Good call. We get enough of this from Galloway."

"Funny you should say that, sir. So did Sunstreaker," Prowl said.

"What did the soldiers say, Prowl? It worries me that there is discord among us. Frankly, I was not aware of it among the soldiers. I see it often enough among the civilians but this has taken me by surprise."

"Me, too, sir," Prowl said shaking his head. He considered the detailed comments that Lennox had shamefacedly given him. He wondered how he could tell the dignified mech sitting in front of him. "I … they're not complimentary, actually, sir. Do you really want to hear them?"

His curiosity piqued, Prime nodded.

Prowl licked his lips nervously and Prime was enchanted.

Prowl shifted in his chair looking at the datapad, holding it tightly, his servos shifting with tension. Prime wanted to rescue him.

Prowl glanced at Prime, looked down, then looked up again focusing his attention on Prime's gentle expression. "Sir, I ..." Prowl said holding up his datapad.

In self defense.

"We are big mechs, Prowl. Soldiers, one and all. Tell me what was said," Prime gently chided.

Prowl nodded schooling his face to a professionalism that he didn't feel. "Yes, sir. It appears that some of them don't like our relationships .That is, our personal ones. Ratchet and Ironhide, for instance. And Sunstreaker and Bluestreak, Sideswipe and Smokescreen, Hound and-"

"All of them essentially," Prime said shaking his head, considering the love that some of his soldiers had found in an escape from the madness of war. Their relationships were the fundamental basic social fabric of their culture and society even as such was among the humans. "Continue," he said acknowledging Prowl's nod. "What actually do they say about them?"

Prowl felt himself fading, his essential social ineptitude rising throughout his circuits as he considered how to tell his Prime some of the remarks the three officers had told him, outlining the miscreant soldier's commentary on the Autobots. He swallowed then focused on the datapad. "They made mention of various homophobic slurs, the usual ones that apply to humans as well, I'm told. Fag, queer, butt boy, sissy. That sort of thing," Prowl said softly, his embarrassment acute on his face and in his aura. "Then they got more specific with acts that they either perceived or imagined for us. Some of them were completely specific to us."

"Such as?" Prime asked as he leaned his elbows on the desk, his eyes riveted on the delicate balance of emotions on Prowl's face. It was clear that Prowl was on the precipice of deeply debilitating embarrassment.

Prowl sat a long time staring at the datapad before looking up, blinking several times in an almost S.O.S of acute distress. "They believe we suck each others USB cables." Prowl swallowed hard, his tanks turning over as he stared at Prime who sat motionlessly staring back.

It seemed unbearable, then Prime pitched forward, his head landing on his desk with a hard thump.

Prowl surprised and stunned, sat a moment, then stood uncertainly, reaching over to touch Prime's shoulder. "Sir?" he asked as his voice began to fill with static, a bad sign of impending glitch. "Sir?" he asked again, nudging Prime gently.

Then Prime moved, his shoulders shaking and from the general direction of his mouth a chuckle began. It rose up in tone and flavor until he sat up to throw back his head as he bellowed laughter to the ceiling.

Prowl standing tensely, stricken and mortified while his optic ridges relocated somewhere around the vicinity of his lower back could only watch Prime with confusion. He personally saw ***NOTHING*** funny but on and on Prime laughed, the sound magnifying and filtering out through the ducts and door into the corridors beyond.

After a moment, Prowl noticed another person in the room and turned his fritzing optics into the amused gaze of Jazz.

Jazz put his arm around Prowl and squeezed his shoulders as he rested his optics on the convulsing figure of his commanding officer. "This is good."

"No," Prowl said moving his servo around his back to hide the datapad with it.

"I don't know, Prowler," Jazz said grinning at him. "I haven't seen him do this in vorns."

Prime stilled a moment from his hysterical laughing to notice Jazz. "Tell him, Prowl. Tell him what the soldiers said about us." Then he began to laugh again, leaning back to hold his chassis as he belly laughed.

"What did they say?" Jazz said turning toward Prowl with amusement at Prowl's extreme discomfort glowing like radioactivity on his face.

"Frag ***no*** ," Prowl stammered.

Prime stopped laughing to look at Prowl and Jazz with extreme amusement. "Should **I** tell him?" Prime asked.

"Not while **I'm** here," Prowl said tossing the datapad on Prime's desk then leaving as fast as he could get around Jazz.

The two of them watched him go, then Jazz pointed at the datapad. "Shall I finish for him?"

Prime nodded with a chuckle. "Oh please do."

  
  


Chapter 21

  
  


-0-Outside Prowl's office

He peeked inside expecting anything, then entered to stare at the slumped figure in the chair behind the desk. "Hey?"

Fritzing optics met his gentle greeting. "Jazz?"

Jazz entered the room to sit in the chair across from Prowl's desk. "You look slagged."

"I don't remember being so mortified," Prowl said. "You **do** know what I told him don't you?"

"USB cables?" Jazz said grinning at the wince of pain that crossed Prowl's face. "I think it's funny. Prime thought so, too. He nearly threw a rod laughing."

Prowl shook his head as he leaned back stiffly, the stylus in his servo tapping lightly on the desk. "He surprises me every day."

"He does," Jazz said relaxing into his chair. "You're really crazy about him aren't ya?"

Prowl nodded as he tossed the stylus down on the desktop. "I am." He was silent a moment. "Ratchet says I'm a fool not to go in and tell him. He says that Prime likes me, too."

"No, he doesn't, Prowler."

Prowl started then looked at Jazz, his expression falling to the floor.

"He ***loves*** you, Prowl," Jazz replied softly.

Prowl looked at Jazz, staring with hopefulness at him as he sat quietly, then he frowned slightly as he lowered his helm to the desktop.

"You really should go in and tell him how you feel, too," Jazz said. "He won't be anything but ecstatic."

"How do you ***** **know** ** *******?" Prowl asked, his voice muffled by the desktop.

"Because I've been around. I've seen a lot of mechs pining away for other mechs and sometimes, femmes. I know what love looks like."

Prowl's helm rose as he leaned back in his chair regarding Jazz quietly. "Just like that. Go in and say, "I love you. Please tell me if you do, too?"

"Sure. Why not? What do you have to lose?"

Prowl regarded Jazz quietly. "My working relationship if you're wrong. My ability to take care of the army, to feel comfortable around Prime. Prime's discomfort with me if you're full of slag and wrong. I could go on but I think you get the idea."

Jazz smirked. "You really have an answer for everything. I never saw such a smart person be so stupid. What exactly are you waitin' for? Him to come to you and throw himself at you?"

Prowl shook his head. "I'm not **you** , Jazz. I'm not socially skilled. I don't have chit-chat to roll out and dazzle people with and I don't know how to exactly measure reactions of mechs beyond a certain mathematical calculation."

"That's where you're messin' up. Who said you have to be mathematical and precise? Love doesn't work that way. It's messy and complicated and simple. You **do** love Prime don't ya?"

Prowl crumpled as his shoulders sagged from misery. "In the worst way," he said. "Since forever."

"You've known him a long time," Jazz said settling back to pry which was his specialty. Prying and making people say 'thank you, Jazz for reading my diaries and picking my pocket' was his inside curve ball. He needed more material to work with and he was determined to open this tin can if it took all morning.

Prowl nodded, his optics gathering that faraway look they got when he was thinking deeply. "I met him the day he came to the Citadel as Prime. I remember thinking 'another one' as I shook his servo. I didn't think about it much because he was just another big mech who I was going to have to train."

"You **really thought that**?" Jazz asked, fascinated with the uncharacteristic disclosure from the most buttoned up mech he knew.

Prowl shrugged. "He was a dockworker before this and when he came he didn't even pretend to be a soldier which made me like him from the start. He was calm and interested in learning what to do without ego pretensions so I decided to do what I always did when the Primes came, be his left servo."

"You **have** been," Jazz said wondering if he could push his luck a little. "I heard that you served under other Primes, too?"

Prowl glanced at him wincing slightly. "Nice choice of words, Jazz."

Jazz smirked. "You heard the rumors, too?"

"Hard to miss," Prowl said shaking his head. "Nova Prime hardly knew I was around. I wasn't in his social group and he didn't exactly consult if you know what I mean. Jhiaxus was his main thinker. I was just the spare, I guess. And I was so young I don't think he even knew I was in the army."

Jazz nodded. "What about Sentinel? Did you really have a relationship with him?"

Prowl considered him. "What did you hear?"

Jazz shrugged. "I heard you were in a relationship with Sentinel Prime. That's all."

Prowl shook his head. "You aren't **in** a relationship with Sentinel."

Jazz waited watching the emotions play across Prowl's face. It was concerning. "What happened with him?"

Prowl shrugged then looked at Jazz as a sad expression formed on his face. "He wasn't good for me. He had an ego that didn't allow for anyone to love him more than he loved himself. He had good qualities but mostly he was selfish and self centered. He had such a conflated sense of himself. Everyone else were lesser beings."

"You were lovers?" Jazz persisted.

"I suppose so. But it was unsatisfying. He would expect and not give. He would take and then leave. He wanted it to be quiet," Prowl said. "I didn't have anything against him. He could be a sweet mech but I really didn't have a good time. I don't especially have good memories of him and those days. Just ... I," he paused a moment, then shook his head. "I was lonely."

"I'm sorry," Jazz said quietly.

"Sentinel was an egotistical individual but he was also brave and tried as hard as he could," Prowl said, oddly feeling a need to defend Sentinel to Jazz.

"Was he your only lover or were there others?" Jazz asked, his voice soft and gentle.

Prowl looked up at him regarding him squarely. "You're interrogating me, Jazz."

"That obvious?" Jazz asked, grinning.

"Yes," Prowl said quietly, pushing the ghosts of his past back to where they belonged.

They sat a moment neither talking, then Prowl shifted uneasily in his chair. "I can do a lot of things, Jazz. I know I'm good at a lot of things and I give everything that I have to the Autobots and to Prime. I'm just not very good at social things. I can't be a dazzling lover and go after what I want. I never have and I don't suppose I'll change."

"I know," Jazz said. He stared at Prowl waiting for him to speak.

Prowl met his gaze and kept it. "You're waiting for more confessions, right?"

"Yes," Jazz replied with a chuckle.

"Sorry. I think between USB cables and Sentinel Prime I've given all the testimony of my backwardness that I can manage today."

Jazz smiled. For him, it was enough.

-0-Med Bay

Ironhide sat in Ratchet's chair behind his desk tapping his fingers. Ratchet was running about getting the place back in shape following their last foray into the world of Decepticon deception and arms dealers. He was mulling over his dissatisfaction with the soldiers and his present state of sexual anxiety with Ratchet. To put it mildly, he was restless with pent up sexual energy and had no place to put it.

/... I'm a mech with **needs** ... a mech can't live on high grade and artillery practice alone .../ "Ratchet."

It took a moment for Ratchet to appear around the corner, his blue optics filled with curiosity and wariness. "What?"

"Come and talk to me," Ironhide said swiveling his chair to face the door.

"I, unlike some mechs I can name have work to do, Ironhide."

"Come here. Talk to me, baby."

It was silent a moment.

"Baby?" Ratchet said moving to stand in the doorway with servos on hips. "You're been around the soldiers too long. I'm way past being a baby."

"Access the multiple meanings," Ironhide suggested. He waited as Ratchet did, a smile forming on his lips as he got the meaning intended.

"So you think if you sweet talk me you'll get what?" Ratchet said moving to sit in the chair across from his desk. He noted that things had been moved around and that meant that Ironhide was looking for the datapads he’d hidden before. He grinned.

/ … ha-ha, Ironhide! … /

"Can't hurt," Ironhide said smirking at the big medico. He leaned forward on his elbows, a smoky look crossing his face. "Gotta give a mech points for trying, ba-bee."

Ratchet smirked as he leaned forward as well. Their lips were close enough to almost touch and Ratchet's sensors noted that Ironhide's already high inner core temperature was rising by proximity. "What do you want to talk about, ba-bee?"

"About a rule change. About you and me burning off the top of the buzz I know you have as badly as I do," he whispered as he leaned closer. His lips gently touched Ratchet's, softly kissing him.

Ratchet let him. It had been a while for him, too, then he leaned back slightly.

"Well?" Ironhide asked, confident that he had at least breached the walls of Fortress Ratchet just a wee bit.

Ratchet smiled, his own look of sultry sexiness crossing his face. He leaned forward coaxing Ironhide to lean in. As they almost touched again, Ratchet whispered: "No." Then he sat back smiling as a look of frustrated tenacity lit up Ironhide's own. He rose, patting Ironhide's big servo. "Gotta work, Ironhide. You might try it. It'll help with all your anxieties." Then he walked into the other room with a smile on his face.

Ironhide watched him go admiring and damning his tenacity. "Well, we'll see, ba-bee," he said rising to leave. Strolling by, his smoky gaze holding Ratchet's, he walked out of the Med Bay and down the corridor.

Ratchet watched him go, smirking as he left. "Good one, Ironhide. You're one nice kisser," he whispered to himself, then he walked back to the storeroom to resupply the surgery.

First Aid sitting nearby re-calibrating machines shook his head. "Too much information, you glitch heads. Too, too much information."

Chapter 22

  
  


-0-Prime's office that morning

When Jazz finally left, Prime took the datapad and perused it. It was vintage Prowl, neat, concise and orderly just like him. Prime grinned as he downloaded the contents into a file he created entitled, 'Galloway Confrontation #287' then closed it, putting it back on the desk. He leaned back as the mirth he felt over the remark Prowl had told him albeit with the most discomfort he had ever seen in the normally stolid mech still tickled him. Prowl was a mech of good taste and refinement obviously. It was good to see him loosen his wing nuts and be just a little bit wild.

He had to get more moments like this.

They were so endearing, so cute and satisfying. Prime stopped, considering his almost child-like sense of lust and delight for the tense taciturn winger who could flip a desk in rage as easily as he could punch a wall.

It was silly and so much fun. But it had to end sometime. He wondered if he could find an opening to tell Prowl at long last how much Prowl meant to him. How much he longed for Prowl when he was absent. How comforting his calm presence was when things went to the Pit. How he marveled when Prowl would flip out over the frustration his planning going nowhere gave him. How he enjoyed Prowl unloading his long held pent up frustration when the act of holding it in would glitch his processor.

Like that.

Just listening to Prowl direct actions that to the last detail were precise and winning, that was comfort to Prime.

He sat in his office stewing, then made up his mind. He was going to tell Prowl. Then he sat some more, worrying about what he could say. Then he made up his mind. He was going to tell Prowl. Then he worried some more about when he could, should he make it romantic or should it be a hit-and-run in a crowded place? What if Prowl didn't feel the same way, Jazz be hanged and Prowl guffawed or there was a scene? He knew that he was big but he was sure if that happened he would find the nearest knothole and climb into it. Then he made up his mind to wait.

/... you are such a big femme .../ Prime thought as he picked up his stylus to begin his day's work.

-0-Nearby

Prowl paced his office turning to walk two steps to one wall, then two steps back. He was a big mech and it was a small office. He would have sighed if he could have but they didn't breathe so he didn't. He did vent air and that was close but no banana.

Or was it cigar?

**Humans!**

He was losing his processor, he thought. The sexual tension between Prime and himself, unless he was imagining it and then he would have to go to the wash racks off shift ... where was I, he thought ... oh yeah, sexual tension.

He paused pacing to access a file he kept in the data dump at the bottom of his processor stem along with a few nice sports car photos he downloaded from Car and Driver Magazine. It was an article from Cosmopolitan about sexual tension and "How To Land That Difficult Man".

/... yes, I'm that desperate .../ he thought as he silently cursed a prim upbringing and a lifelong adherence to the real world and facts. He read and discarded a number of suggestions. He didn't wear lingerie and he didn't wear perfume. He didn't understand sex toys even though they appeared to be at a higher number on the list than accommodating interests that didn't require orifices.

/... its a human thing ... I'm sure I will never understand... hopefully .../

Be direct. Hmm. That's so not me but it is but it isn't. Be direct, look him in the eye and tell him things he wants to hear. Tell him what **you** want. Tell him he's sexy and his body turns you on.

Pause to reflect on the multitudinous ways **that** could blow up in his face ...

/...that won't be hard ... he **is** sexy in a Cybertronian sort of way ... not human ... Primus, penises are **so** ugly ... **now prongs** and no, I won't go there ... I don't think I'll ever be able to look at a USB cable again ... tell him he's sexy ... how do you **do** that? .../

He paused a moment to gather his wits. "Optimus, uh Optimus, have I ever told you how sexy you are?" He paused again to wince inwardly in a major puckering sort of way. "I doubt I ever will either." He shuttered his optics and shook his helm. "I'm such a dumb aft. I'm such a dumb aft. Why am I **such** a dumb aft?"

-0-Nearby in the Rec Room

Jazz sat sipping his energon, the loyal long suffering Mirage sitting with him watching the machinations form and be discarded on Jazz's face.

"These two nuts are harder to crack than you thought aren't they," Mirage said smirking slightly.

Jazz looked at him with how own smirk. "You doubt I can work my magic?"

"It could be that you've found the ceiling for your evil, my dear and most beloved Jazz," Mirage said leaning back in his chair as he grinned at his lover.

"We'll see, Mirage. Wager?" Jazz asked sitting back himself, admiring Mirage's paint scheme once more.

"Done," Mirage said leaning forward. He whispered his wager to Jazz.

Jazz smiled. "You're on."

-0-In Prowl's office

He sat brooding as Sentinel Prime of all things entering his processor. He shifted in his chair turning it one way and back the other again as an intimate moment entered his processor.

^..^

**"Prowl! Prowl!"**

He lay on his back staring up at Sentinel. Feeling very little below the fan belt or anywhere else, he watched as Prime galloped his way toward overload alone.

Again.

When he finally passed the finish line and collapsed on Prowl blocking out all view of anything whatsoever he was so big, even Prowl's venting was muffled. For a long time he lay silently, his frame cooling down, ticking and popping sounds the only ones in the room.

They were supposed to both be offline but for the past few ventures into the world of metallic orgasm, Sentinel was the only one to finish the race to the metal as it were. He was left knitting at the starting line.

Sentinel roused looking down at Prowl with a smug look. "Hi, beautiful."

Prowl frowned. "You weigh a ton."

"I weigh several tons," he said proudly disconnecting to roll off to the side. He rubbed his chassis idly with his servo as he stared at the ceiling with satisfaction fairly radiating off him.

"That was nothing I'd write home about," Prowl finally ventured.

Sentinel turned his helm to stare at Prowl. "You underestimate yourself, Prowl."

"No, **you** over estimate **yourself** , Sentinel."

Of course, **that** went over well. He sat on the berth watching as Sentinel got up, turned to him and scowled. "I don't over estimate myself," he said. "I **know** how good I am."

"Really? I didn't even get a buzz. You were off down the road and I was still in the garage," Prowl said, finally, at long last standing up for himself.

"That's **your** problem, Prowl," he said defensively. "It's a two mech game, 'facing. You might put a little effort in it yourself."

At that point, Prowl lost every breakable he owned as Sentinel began a strategic retreat from Prowl's apartment. It also began the last campaign that Sentinel ever waged to get Prowl back.

Prowl quit thinking there. It wouldn't be long after that Sentinel was murdered and Optimus came onto the scene. Out of the fathead and into the fryer. He grinned. Nice pun. Rising, he began to pace once more.

-0-Prime's office

He made up his mind, then he changed it. Then he made it up. Pausing, wavering, he changed it. Then he manned up. He made up his mind. :Prime to Prowl.:

:Prowl here:

[Pause. Intense manning up]

:Prowl, meet me in front of the hangar. By the bench.:

:Affirmative.:

Prime squared his massive shoulders, checked himself for dirt specks or other hindrances to the campaign ahead and strode to his door. Grasping the knob, wincing at the Decepticon Seekers currently warring in his tanks, he stepped out into the light to face the toughest battle of his life.

He was going to tell Prowl.

Something.

-0-Walking to the front of the hangar

Prowl felt his servos but his peds might have been on the body of another person. Prime wanted him. For business he considered, but being around Prime lately had grown difficult. He continued onward.

-0-Nearby

Jazz saw Prime pass, then Prowl followed. Something was amiss. Prime looked nervous and Prowl looked fritzy. He followed determined to derail any attempts to derail a probable denouement that could spell happiness to the two hapless mechs passing by.

Outside Prime turned as Prowl stopped in front of him. "Sir?" Prowl asked looking at Prime with curious optics.

Prime who was lost in their soft blue luster lost his purpose. He stood silently staring at Prowl with real emotion on his normally composed face.

Prowl who was overcome with Prime's focus found himself staring silently, too.

Jazz who was overcome with their ineptitude also found himself staring.

Then It Happened.

Finally.

Prime touched Prowl's face as a smile formed on his lips. Prowl, overcome, gripped Prime's arm squeezing it as a small smile formed on his own. Then they communicated off line, Jazz only guessing at the conversation. At this point, Prime walked briskly into the hangar to disappear inside.

Prowl who stood a moment as still as a statue glanced around, ever proper and prim, then began to walk equally briskly into the building.

Jazz who was standing nearby watching it all beeped Ratchet.

:Ratchet here. What's up, Jazz?:

:Prime in a couple of kliks, I'd say:

It was silent a moment, then Jazz could feel the smile that came over the line to him.

:Operation Get Prowl Laid is a go?:

:Yep: was all Jazz could manage around the marching band in his processor.

-0-Half a joor later

Prime walked out of Prowl's office with a light skip to his step. He walked to the Rec Room and out the hangar door, onward to the N.E.S.T. HQ for the early afternoon briefing and all around bull fest known as the daily staff meeting. He was happy, spark light and glowing.

Jazz who was standing at the door to the Ops Center before going on shift watched with a grin. Mirage owed him. Even though they had finally done it on their own he was going to take credit. After all, all is fair in love and war he considered.

Sometimes the humans were profound.

Then Prowl exited, his wings pert and his affect glowing.

Jazz entered the Ops Center making for the sensor grid where he knew Prowl always went first. Hanging there, pretending to care, he watched as Prowl came toward him.

Prowl slowed a moment then nodded to Jazz. He stared at the grid, looking at it but not seeing it. The frenzied tryst in his office over his desk was still very much on the front of his processor.

"You look happy," Jazz said grinning at the winsome winger of many a blow out over a point of battle.

"Uh, its a nice day."

"Um-hm. Nice tattoo."

Prowl glanced at him frowning slightly. "What?"

"Nice tattoo. Nice shade of blue," Jazz said glancing down.

On Prowl's thigh was a streak of blue paint, a souvenir if you will of a frenzied long overdue moment. He gasped then reached down to cover it with his servo as he glanced around.

Jazz snickered. "Keep it. A souvenir of 'two trains colliding'," he said quoting the report of the miscreant soldiers.

Prowl shuttered his optics, shaking his head slowly. "It never failed," he said. "Never.

  
  


Chapter 23

-0-In the dark, in an officer's quarters

He lay in the darkness, his optics giving a weak glow as he stared at the ceiling. He’d heard about Prime and Prowl from Ratchet when he’d brought the medic his dinner. They sat together for a bit discussing it, feeling exceedingly happy for the two of them. Then later on his own, Ironhide felt himself resenting the two. As he lay on the berth with Ratchet stretched out beside him probably deep in recharge, the slagger, he was truly peeved.

/... those slaggers are probably 'facing like mad rabbits and here I am laying next to the only mech I ever craved and I'm not getting any, the slagger .../

Ironhide ventured an optic and noted that Ratchet looked especially alluring. A part of him felt that it was deliberate, a chance to give him a permanent pucker in the appropriate interface accouterments. He turned slightly, considering whether to roll onto his side and with his manly form and wily ways trick Ratchet into putting out.

Or at least that's what the soldiers called it. Putting out 'what' was still unclear. What out is put? He refused to check out internet porn or medical sites. He was still recovering from the stuff Ratchet had told him one night early in their bivouac here...

-0-Then

"First, you have foreplay."

"What? What's that?" he’d asked.

An act he would regret.

Ratchet looked at him with a mirthful expression. "That's their word for fumbling around and wrestling you know, 'The Sexy' as you call it."

Ironhide noting the mild tone of condemnation in Ratchet's vocal processor looked back at his novel. The Battle of the Bastille had nothing on Ratchet when he wanted to get something done.

Such as aggravate him.

"Then," Ratchet continued smirking slightly at Ironhide's distracted disgust. "Then when you find that the desired effect is just so, you insert-"

" ***** **Hold* on** ," Ironhide said cutting Ratchet off at the pass. "I don't think I want to know who inserts what into where."

"Ironhide, you were told by Prime to learn about our new allies. I'm just trying to help you." Ratchet grinned at Ironhide's discombobulation. He was so cute when he was freaked out. Like whenever some organic function was brought to his attention, such as human 'facing.

"I don't think I've ever been in a battle where it matters where a mech put his prong, Ratchet. I'm sure that happens to hold here, too."

Ratchet laughed at Ironhide. "You're such a little femme," he said nudging Ironhide with a ped. "You little sparkling, you. Whiner. Wimp."

"I have **no** problem with The Sexy, Ratchet, as **you** know well and good." He grinned with pride. "After all, I haven't heard any complaints by you over the many vorns I’ve been exclusively bringing the Doom of Ironhide to you."

"The Doom of Ironhide?" Ratchet asked delightedly. "Is that what you call it?"

"That’s what **all** my mechs call it," he said, "both in and out of the berth."

"I'm assuming you mean the Decepticons whose aft you kick and me as it applies to the berth," Ratchet said with a devilish twinkle in his optics.

"Of course," Ironhide said tossing his novel down as he affixed Ratchet with a smoky gaze. "I can show you if you're in need of servos-on experience."

"You’re always ready with the encouraging word and helping servo," Ratchet said as Ironhide gripped his peds to pull him off the chair and into his lap, bumping Ratchet's helm on the floor as he did.

Ratchet straddled the big mech's lap as he rubbed his helm. "That wasn't exactly suave you know," Ratchet said as he slipped his arms around Ironhide's shoulders. He grinned in spite of himself.

Ironhide smiled back, taken once again with the pleasure of holding Ratchet after so many orns of camping in bivouac in an open hangar with everyone else. "Part of the price, Ratchet, of bonding with a Chaos Bringer."

"Yeah," Ratchet said with a smile.

And then they didn't talk anymore.

-0-Now, again ...

Ironhide reviewed the highlight reel of 'facing with Ratchet that he always kept near during a long deployment when they were apart or when they were sparring in a prank war. Then he shut it off as the desired effect, rolling over and having his way would not be coming and the torment of watching it on his internal screen was worse than hammering his ped with a pile driver.

"Ironhide."

He glanced over at Ratchet. "What?"

"You're fidgeting," Ratchet said opening an optic as he affixed the dark form beside him with a smirk.

"I don't want to argue that point again, Ratchet. I don't 'fidget'. Prowl fidgets. Prime fidgets. What a stupid sounding word. Prowl and Prime are probably 'fidgeting' right now. How about you and me following our great leader's example? You know … do our patriotic duty and all."

"Are you ready to surrender?" Ratchet asked.

"Nope."

"Then I guess you'll have to 'fidget' with yourself when no one is looking or hit the wash racks. I heard that the hand nozzles there are pretty sweet." Ratchet suppressed a chuckle. Then he turned over and slipped his arm around Ironhide's chest, snuggling close to him.

Ironhide who was enjoying the comfort of Ratchet close to him rubbed his cheek against Ratchet's for a moment. Then he brought up a point. "This stuff falls into The Sexy and is off limits under the The Rules of Prank Warfare."

Ratchet smirked, then snuggled closer. "Snuggling isn't against The Rules."

"It's fraternization," Ironhide persisted. "Not that I'm against a little fraternization if you take my meaning. You do right? Get the meaning?"

"You want to 'face?" Ratchet asked as he traced a line of glyphs that Ironhide had engraved into the lines and curves of his face plates and scattered about his massive chassis and limbs. A number of the more prominent of them was Ratchet's name. Most of them were religious and philosophical comments and quotations from the Oracles and other self-chosen documents he’d picked to commemorate the stages of his life as he grew up to acquire new protoforms.

When he’d bonded with Ratchet he’d placed Ratchet's name and a few lines from a love poem that had told the world that Ironhide was exclusive to a single mech and why.

Ratchet had his own and prominent in a couple of places was Ironhide's name and comments of love from Ratchet to him. It was the way of their people to do this and they were nothing if not traditional.

"Do you?" Ironhide asked hopefully. "Wanna 'face that is?"

"Sure." Ratchet traced a reference on Ironhide's arm. It told of solidarity with the Cause of the Autobots, a statement of fidelity with their Prime and the culture and mores of his people. A religious salutation to Primus rounded it out.

"I'm not surrendering," Ironhide said. "I'm not built to be a carrier. You're the nurturer. I'm the blower-upper."

Ratchet laughed as he moved even closer to his bond, feeling a sense of loving peacefulness in doing so. "The blower-upper? That's you, Chaos Bringer of the Autobots."

"So you wanna 'face?" Ironhide asked hopefully.

"Yeah."

"Are you going to give in and 'face or are you a tease?"

"What do you think, ba-bee?" Ratchet asked, smirking slightly at Ironhide’s petulant tone.

Ironhide smirked slightly, sliding his arm under Ratchet to pull him up to lay half on and half off his body. "Good night, Ratchet."

"Good night, my darling Ironhide," Ratchet whispered smiling with contentment.

Ironhide smiled, too.

-0-Next day

The sun was overhead when the call came in. There was intel from Interpol that a weapons deal was going to occur once again and it would be in Denver, Colorado this time. The Decepticons were after a connection to continue their efforts to sow discord among the human population regarding Transformers in general and they’d have to dispatch a recon team to check out the area to discover what they could about a shadowy organization that called itself The Resistance.

The Southern Poverty Law Center had been tracking them when they came onto the radar and found them to be an as yet undefined group that was affiliated with a nationwide motorcycle gang that had international ties with gun runners and drug cartels. They were looking for weaponry to sell according to intel received through an aggressive network of deep cover spies and agents. The first step for the Autobots and N.E.S.T. was to go to Denver and use their detection capabilities to see if the rumors of alien intervention and equipment were even true.

Prime agree and the plan with the help of Prowl's analytical skills was to call in Bumblebee to be the point mech on the ground, coupling him when they arrived with Sargent Epps. Hound, Springer and Ironhide would be a part of the advance ground team with Optimus Prime being in overall charge in the circling plane overhead. This would be an excursion to verify. If there was to be an intervention, if the material checked out, there would be numerous specialized mechs and separate strike teams for part two.

Optimus walked from N.E.S.T. HQ, his mind buzzing with plans and all the assorted steps that had to be taken to ensure a smooth operation, especially one with another team involved, the humans. Prowl would stay at Autobot Ops Center directing intel, formulating strategy as well as monitoring and positioning Teletraan III and its assorted space-going components.

At no point in his deliberations did he consider that he had only just now found his footing with Prowl, that they would be separated for an indeterminate time and that one of them would be in danger when it happened. It was how it was in the world of Optimus Prime, his deep abiding responsibilities to his mechs, the Cause and the people of Cybertron who were massing on faraway shores, all of them dependent upon him to help alleviate their suffering and homelessness came first.

That was all he considered, his people, the mission and their allies as he entered the Autobot Complex that morning in November in Diego Garcia.

  
  


Chapter 24

-0-Diego, that same morning

Prime had stood in his office, the burdens he’d carried alone for millions and millions of years seemingly lessened now. It was astounding that in the space of a few joors he could feel reborn. He couldn't remember when it had all changed, the view of Prowl that had been in his processor and his perception of the moods and mannerisms of that singular mech. He couldn't remember when **he** had changed. Prime just knew that he had. It was a change, too, not an infatuation, a flirtation or something transient.

Prowl had always been important to him but unknowable. The mech was private and reserved, exceedingly capable, always ahead of the curve with the seeming ability to almost read his processor to get, collate, combine, structure and think about what was needed and necessary.

Prime knew that he had a Machiavellian grimness about winning the war and their few EPIC battles over process and outcomes had cemented themselves into his psyche forever. Prowl was no light weight nor was he easy. He was tough, smart and one might even say once in a while, scheming. Yet, he was without a doubt single minded in his pursuit of the end of the war with as few casualties on their side as his ability to plan and devise could allow. All in all, that side of Prowl was a challenge and one of many points of his character that Prime enjoyed.

When whatever it was had to materialize in his servo, on his desk or among the mechs, whatever it was, did. It was almost preternatural, Prowl's ability to be all that he needed at whatever moment it was and all that they **all** **had to have** in a moment's notice. He never in all the vorns that he’d been Prime had another second-in-command.

Prowl was always there.

And yet for some reason Prime had only just now come to see him in three dimensions, giving in ever so much to the idea that this didn’t have to be a singular journey, that it might be okay for him to have someone himself and all the resultant possibilities that would flow from that choice.

This mech with the calm steady presence, the doer and the thinker had become intensely important, the one Prime wanted to do things for, to take care of the way Prowl took care of just about everything and everyone else. If he didn’t have Prowl in his operation and now his life it would bring chaos. It would also bring crippling loneliness and despair.

For Prime, seeing him this way everyday now was everything. They had developed a short hand and had for a long time worked together in a mostly synced manner. Even though Prowl was famed for his rages and desk/table flipping when things didn’t follow every step, his usually calm encouragement, his steadfast belief and ability to do the harder things without (much) malice had become the best game in town for Optimus Prime.

For some reason, it had all come to him in a crystal clear moment. Perhaps his stint in the Matrix had cleared away the confusion about what he would allow for himself and what he wanted now actually asserted itself. He was Prime, a mech in a long line of mechs who were entrusted with the greatest gift and the greatest burden Cybertron could bestow, the care and protection of their people and their way of life.

When the news that the twins had an altercation with soldiers who were speaking ill of them, criticizing their relationships and their way of life and culture, it had been a blow. That had given him pause for a moment, the consideration that what they took as their specie's norm was found to be derisive within the hosts who had given them space to stay here, the humans.

They weren't humans even though they had some similar ways, styles and habits. They were metallic lifeforms, Cybertronians and Autobots. They did what they did because that was who they were in the elaborate and ancient modes of their culture, not because they had other options. They lived in homes, raised families, went to school, sent their offspring there and enjoyed lives with goals and enjoyments that were very similar. They had culture, art, history, music, commercial aspirations, sports and religions, too.

It was who and what they were.

But it had also reinforced something that had been percolating in his mind since arrival in this solar system. Ironhide had disclosed to him that Ratchet was after a sparkling. He had grinned and laughed, encouraging them even as he knew Ironhide would never become a carrier. Even as he did he knew their people needed the hope, the belief that things would become normal again. A sparkling would do that.

Birth would mean rebirth could happen once more.

Within his chest nestled close to the spark that defined him was the Creation Matrix, the Autobot Matrix of Leadership. It contained access to the previous Primes, to the entire experiential information database of every Cybertronian who had ever lived. It could create life and restore it. It was his honor and burden to bear.

It was a glistening beacon into the night of their current sad condition, twinkling brightly for a lot of his lost forlorn people who were waiting for him, their Prime to save them from despair. He felt the burden acutely and now with his change of perspective he wasn't alone in bearing it. He would do something about things in his own way under his own direction. He was going to save his people.

Prowl was on his side as ever but he was also by his side personally. He considered his biggest project when he entered the Ops Center, deciding to let Prowl help him. The chance his people needed and the one he had to fight to get them was coming together in his processor. He needed to confide with those who would help make it happen. Not just for them, he considered, but for the babies and infants who would come and those that were here, those that had no concept of a permanent safe home world.

But that would come after the threat subsided a little. For now, it was the task at hand that mattered. So he soldiered on, the hope for their future on hold to ensure that the here and now would be something they could all bear.

-0-California

Bumblebee honked outside the dorm where the Allspark slept. It was late and he’d texted Sam on the cell that had his personal number. He could, of course, hack into any system and make all the calls he wanted and he did.

The slagging delinquent.

Of course, Prime couldn't learn that or he'd get The Lecture about being Personally Responsible. He was a youngling mech who missed his friends in Diego sometimes, so 'occasionally' he 'experimented' with his 'skills', keeping them honed to the greatest degree possible while he protected the Allspark.

He hacked his phone and text calls for free.

A figure shambled quickly down the walkway, Sam in his jammies and slippers. He had throw a jacket over them and his face reflected his sleepy state. "Bee," he said. He entered the car as the door opened. He sat as the door closed gently. "What's up? I got your text."

"I'm heading for Denver," Bee said. "Prime needs recon. While I'm gone, Smokescreen will be coming. He's being dropped off tomorrow on a military plane that’s coming into Vandenburg Air Base and will be here with only a small window without you protected. I just want you to keep low and wait until you see him."

"He'll let me know he's here?" Sam asked yawning deeply.

"He will," Bee replied. "You'll like him. He's a gambler."

"No **kidding**?" Sam asked intrigued as ever by the former lives of the mostly civilian Autobots. "You have gamblers?"

"We **all** are, Sam," Bee replied with a chuckle. "Go inside and keep a low profile. Smokescreen will text you and Teletraan has you on the radar. We will protect you, Sam."

"Be careful, Bee," Sam said as he leaned forward to get out of the Camaro. "You driving there and then what? Is anyone going to help you or are you on your own?" His tone was worried and it warmed Bee.

"Ironhide, Hound and Springer are going to be there and Prime will direct it from the air," Bee replied as his door swung open.

"Springer, huh," Sam said with a grin. "Are you sure Optimus wants the little woman to be in battles?"

Bee laughed as the car vibrated slightly with his mirth. "I wouldn't say that to Springer if I were you, Sam. Ask Smokescreen about the Wreckers."

"I will," Sam said patting the dashboard fondly. "Take care and come back without bullet holes, okay?"

"I will," Bee said watching with amusement as Sam walked to the dorm to enter the building. Then he closed his door and began to roll away, heading toward the interstate and Denver many miles away. As he did, a car rolled slowly behind him. Barricade with his signature heavily dampened and his alt vehicle form changed drove slowly past the dorm and followed Bumblebee as he rolled east, unseen and unnoticed by the Autobot.

-0-At Diego Garcia

The hubbub of shipping out on assignment filled the base with activity. Soldiers pulled their gear together as Epps led three of them with him toward Silverbolt. The striker team would be going with Hound, Springer and Ironhide to seek out a possible violation of the Tyrest Accord. The Code of Interplanetary Conflict binding both Autobots and Decepticons forbid the transmission of Transformer technology to others. The situation at hand was potentially the second attempt by the Decepticons to facilitate this violation.

It had been enforced by officers like Ultra Magnus in the past but now it was up to N.E.S.T. among all their other duties to help them prevent the catastrophic possibility of humans obtaining weapons far beyond their capacity to handle. That most of the weapons sought couldn't be manufactured here due to lack of appropriate materials and skills didn't stop the effort. One didn't know what one might discover taking a weapon apart. They were willing to get what they could for advantage even if they wouldn't be able to actually replicate the item.

Information was power.

Ironhide gathered his gear together, deciding the munitions he would arm with and carry in subspace. The armory was a third level subsurface warehouse at their complex surrounded by the hardest metal they could bring, cybertanium. The blast doors were two feet thick and the lock was a rotating combination.

He stood in front of the rack with munitions for his canons, tapping them for the characteristic tanging sound that proofed them for him. Standing behind him, watching with a guarded expression was Ratchet who was not going along. At least not in the first wave.

No one expected to make contact and if they did a second wave of reinforcements were going to be waiting on deck in Diego to fly to the battle courtesy of Cosmos. The human civilians didn't want a 'chaotic confrontation by aliens' in their city though Prime thought it a poor idea not to go in force. He relented in the name of comradeship even as he sorted out a back up team to come if needed.

Ratchet who was used to dealing with nervous civilians from his years as Optimus Prime's appointed diplomat felt exasperation nonetheless. It meant that there could be a lag time and lag times meant deaths were more, not less likely to happen.

Ironhide finished then nodded to Ratchet who followed him out and upward, moving past stockpiles of supplies gathered by Cosmos on many trips to far flung places. They were pulling things together for an as yet undisclosed venture that Prime was planning. They reached the barracks level and continued onward to the staging area out front.

Springer and Hound were already there and Smokescreen had left earlier, hurrying onward to fill in the gap brought about by Bumblebee's deployment to the area where the Decepticons were reported to be venturing.

Prowl and Prime were nearby, huddled over a datapad and the human soldiers were gathering a short space away, standing or sitting on packs, their parachutes on the ground next to their weapons. They would be dropping into the Coors Field Stadium in Denver, itself dark and empty of prying eyes. The area they needed to search was in the general vicinity, an old warehouse district filled with dive bars and a slowly gentrifying eclectic selection of shops and housing.

Ironhide and Ratchet stood together as others, those who weren't going came to wish them a safe journey, Primus blessed and swift. Finally, Optimus hugged Prowl, kissing him, then looked back at his crew with a nod. They began to gather gear, walking toward Silverbolt who waited patiently on the tarmac for them.

Ratchet watched then gazed intently at Ironhide. "Come back, Ironhide," he said quietly.

"I will," Ironhide said. "I'll probably see you there."

"Prime is sending us behind you anyway," Ratchet said. "Expect it."

They stared a moment then embraced to hold each other tightly. The soldiers gathering their gear averted their eyes with sympathy mixed with surprise at both Ironhide and Ratchet as well as Prime and Prowl. Then they let go, kissing softly.

Ratchet nodded, folding his arms over his chassis, watching as Ironhide walked toward the jet. He climbed into the hold and sat by the door helping the others inside until all were aboard. Then the door closed, at last obscuring him from Ratchet's clear view.

Prowl watching nearby walked over and stood with him as Thunderbolt rose and flew away into the late afternoon sun, fading at last from view.

  
  


Chapter 25

-0-On the wing

Ironhide sat beside Springer talking softly about a number of commonalities in Cybertronian ... NeoCybex, the Cybertronian standard speech to be exact.

Prime sitting near the cockpit internally communicating with Silverbolt received the most recently updated intel from the Denver FBI office which was the communications hub for the mission. The local police were given only the sketchiest information so as not to jeopardize the mission.

They also wouldn't be part of the strike force but would provide security for the cordoned off areas once the miscreants were located and subdued. It hadn’t gone over well when they were told just an hour ago. It reminded Prime of the overlapping jurisdictions of the many city-states on Cybertron. They had some things in common, Earth and Cybertron, after all.

Epps and his soldiers leaned against the bulkhead of the great vessel that flew them soundlessly through the gathering night sky. He marveled once again that it was a living being they were leaning against, a living sentient being. Across from him were ancient living sentient beings, Autobots who had forgotten more about his profession than he would ever live to learn.

This was the first mission since their altercation with Johnson and Hedges. He’d been deeply ashamed and embarrassed with the chaos they’d committed. In the aftermath, the three of them, Lennox, Graham and himself had sat their men and women down reading them the riot act. This kind of thinking would now be grounds for anyone to be scrubbed from the program.

But for the restraint of the Autobots, Sunstreaker's anger not withstanding, there could’ve been a massacre. They didn't have to like some of the parts of Cybertron that the Autobots lived, they didn't have to think their relationships were personally okay. They just had to shut the fuck up, be professional and observe. Maybe in the observing, maybe in the behavior of these most appreciated and respected strangers in their midst they would learn something and maybe change.

He had.

The first time he’d seen Ironhide hug Ratchet he considered them to be friends greeting each other. The human soldiers sometimes hugged each other. Lord **knew** , they swatted each others ass often enough. The Autobots did the same things, too. It was sort of the norm for both he thought, another commonality they shared.

But then he saw Ironhide kiss Ratchet and that had shocked him. He was used to the Don't Ask, Don't Tell policy of his own army so the idea that robots could 'be gay' was so strange he had to stop and consider it. But then, he was also shocked that robots **had** personal relationships of **any** kind, let alone those that seemed as emotionally satisfying as their own and were maybe even ‘sexual’ in nature, however that went.

 **That** part he didn't dwell on but he assumed if they kissed they did other things, too. How? He didn't venture. He just assumed. Then he found out they weren't gay, but androgynous. They only displayed ‘gender’ to make other species that had genders feel more comfortable around them. That took a moment to ponder especially when Arcee showed up.

They were alien with alien ways and designs, Cybertronian, not human he concluded.

Gender wasn't an issue to them, a concept he was still trying to understand. You loved who you loved regardless of gender and with the lack of femmes- the base itself had only Arcee- it would make sense. The need for love and closeness with another wasn’t limited to humanity he’d come to conclude.

He found out that they didn't have genders unless they were around others who held to them. Only then did they speak about mech/male and femme/female. The rest of the time they were just … mechs. Or maybe, they were just … them. He wasn't that clear on it but the idea that there was only one gender was strange to him. No genders at all? Down right revolutionary.

It was also confusing.

He remembered a conversation about this that he had with Graham and Lennox early on in their alliance. They were sitting on the patio outside the officer's club sipping beer.

"I don't know what it’d be like living in a society where nearly everyone I saw was a guy," Lennox was saying. "Everyone single person with only a tiny percentage a guy. How weird would that be?"

They’d nodded in agreement as they silently pondered such a thing.

Graham picked up his sandwich. "I was talking to Ratchet the other day about that. I asked him outright what this meant and how we were supposed to address it. I was curious and I didn't want to transgress a taboo or something. He told me that they're basically without gender."

The other two looked at him, then Lennox frowned slightly. "What do you mean?"

"Ratchet told me that they don't recognize gender among their species, among themselves alone because it doesn’t exist. It wasn’t a feature when they were created and came to be. They do so as a courtesy to other species with genders like us but between themselves, there's no gender identification."

Graham set his beer down. "I asked about Arcee and Ratchet told me that they're so few that a lot of their population has never seen one in person, someone who looks that different. He said its something to do with the shape of their processor that makes them ‘different’ in some way but they don’t get treated very differently because of it. Something to do with someone called Solus Prime, but he didn’t say more.

“He said that there are more obvious mechs than I could imagine who've never seen one like them in their lives. The femmes don't think of themselves as female. They think of themselves as Cybertronian and mech. I don't especially get it but it's what they think when they view themselves. I would say, it'd simplify things enormously."

"Who would hold the door open for, say, my mom?" Epps asked with a grin. "I know that Arcee is called a femme but it isn’t that clear to me. I guess that's because we’re still learning about them now."

"I think so. I wouldn't want to get on the bad side of Arcee, femme or mech," Lennox said as he sipped his beer. On that, all three could agree.

His mother's voice filled his head as he mused on things. Epps smiled.

Hound who was sitting across from him smiled back. "You seem amused," he said shifting his big frame slightly.

"I was thinking of my mother," Bobby said.

Hound nodded. "Your genitors? Are they still living?"

Epps nodded. "They are. They live in Ohio. Same with my grandparents and great grandparents on my dad's side."

Hound scanned an internal map. "A very flat place, Ohio. I'd like to go there eventually. I'd like to add Ohio to my personal topographical map collection. I'd love to go with Trailblazer," he added wistfully. He smiled. "I love your planet."

"I can see that," Epps smiled as he remembered a small mission that the two had undertaken at the beginning of the Autobot-Human alliance. He and Hound had tracked a signal that had led them on a different path than the rest of their party. Riding in Hound, allowing his incredible skills to find the Decepticon they’d been after, they ended up at a drive-in where a movie was playing. The Decepticon had fled and was taken care of but Hound in his sweet naivete had asked him a question, still not getting it that not all the vehicles he saw on Earth were sentient like himself.

"I don't understand what that place was where we found the 'Con," Hound had said.

Epps looked up at the Autobot, getting him at last. Hound was a good soul, he loved the world around him and he wasn't a violent mech. They’d captured the con when it had been reasonable in Epps' mind that blowing his ass to the Matrix would have been easier. But he found that Hound had a good spark and he wasn't a shoot first mech if they could do it another way. "What, Hound?" he’d asked as they sat together guarding a battered, offline but very much alive Decepticon.

"What **is** that place, Robert? Is it a religious place?"

Epps frowned. "Religious?"

Hound nodded. "Are the cars gathered there for a religious purpose?"

Epps found in his heart a special place for Hound at that moment and among the Autobots he was probably the one that made him the most happy when he came into view. There was something so endearing and kind in that Autobot's spark that he just nodded. "Actually, Hound, there are plenty who find drive-ins a religious experience, not just the cars."

Flashes of the many times he’d gotten laid in the back seat of his Dad's Buick crossed his mind and many of them he considered religious. He smiled now. Then he made a common mistake. "What about yours, Hound?" The moment the words left his mouth he was sorry.

A slight cloud crossed the sunshine that was Hound's spark as he shook his head. "Gone. Probably gone in the war."

"I'm sorry, Hound. I'm sorry I said anything," Epps said feeling as low as it got.

"Don't let it bother you, Robert. It's just the way it is," Hound said sadly as he looked off to one side. "It can't be that way forever."

"It won't," Epps said wholeheartedly. "You have Earth and you have us."

Hound looked at Epps with affection, this human who was probably his favorite. "I know," he said softly. Then he smiled.

Springer watching Hound leaned back, his own thoughts filling his processor. Hound was his polar opposite. Hound didn't do more violence than he needed and he, Springer was a Wrecker, the last chance go-to mech for necessary carnage and the hopeless case. He didn't know even now how he, Kup and the others could still be alive. Too many Wrecker crews weren't but he and his comrades, the original Wreckers were still this side of the Matrix. And they were back, most of them, with Prime. He smiled slightly, too, as he thought about their prank.

Most of the humans were scandalized about it, finding it an almost incomprehensible thing that a dignified important mech like Prime would stoop so low as to prank another mech even if it was Ironhide.

 **Especially** Ironhide, the slagger.

He glanced at Ironhide who was sitting beside him quietly lost in his own thoughts as he checked his weapons. They had no animosity about the prank, they were pros and they had a running tab on who was due to be slagged and who was ahead in the game.

It made war bearable.

But for Springer, himself no shrinking violet, there was a side to Prime he knew that others didn't. It had made the prank so much more to both he and Prime than it would others. It was the reason he had his role in it, the ‘bond’ and genitor with Optimus.

That kiss he’d given Prime outside the hangar when they sprang their little ruse on Ironhide was not the first one. They had an off and on again relationship borne of war and mutual neediness over the vorns that had served them both well.

Few knew about him and 'Faro', the name Prime used in some places when they met and they were not in a hurry for that to change. But change it did when it became clear to Springer that Prowl was the one that mattered to Prime. Circumstances had made further assignations impossible and now that Prime had made his move on the taciturn strategist and all-around Autobot tactical genius he was glad.

The two had clashed nearly every time Prowl had needed them and Prowl loathed the Wreckers for their anarchical chaotic tear up the plans approach to missions. It didn’t matter that they won them to Prowl. It was the idea of it, probably.

Springer had shredded many a carefully crafted battle plan and even punched Prowl in the face now and again, but they had never failed and that held fire between them. They both had the same goal, just different paths to that same place.

"We're almost there," Prime said, his baritone confident and firm as it broke the silence. "Get ready to jump."

The men moved forward slipping on their parachutes and strapping them tightly. Guns were gripped, other gear sorted and fastened onto their belts.

The Autobots tensed, some of them checking their weapons before waiting to move forward toward the jump door of Silverbolt's fuselage blinking with a red light. Prime who was listening to someone off line nodded to Ironhide as the big mech stood up to walk to the door. He punched a row of buttons, entering a code and it slid down revealing the maw of a dark Colorado night.

Snow falling violently in the wake of the plane, silently blowing into a vortex of swirling cold greeted them as Silverbolt began to circle.

Ironhide looked at Epps and nodded. The soldiers rose as Epps led them to the door and looked down. A small dot of lights in the whirling haze laid down on the field below was the agreed upon jump marker at Coors Field. One-by-one, he tapped his soldiers and they jumped. Then he nodded to Ironhide and jumped himself.

Ironhide looking at the others nodded again. Springer with a grin on his face and his rifle in his servos jumped and was followed by a more serious Hound. Looking back at Prime, nodding to his closest oldest friend, getting a nod back, Ironhide jumped into the night.

Prime watched him go then rapped his knuckles against Silverbolt's hull. The door closed and it was silent again. Picking up a datapad, Prime reviewed it even as data poured in from Diego. He heard Prowl's calm voice directing traffic and intel as the jump team's whispers filled his processor.

-0-Diego

Ratchet carried his emergency gear to Cosmos who was waiting for them to go. Prime had ordered that they follow ten minutes behind. The human ground crew wouldn't know where they were going and the soldiers that were coming with them weren't telling. They had latitude in disclosure in the Autobot treaty as well as N.E.S.T. protocols and they intended to use it.

Those going walked out loaded and those not going took the burden from Ratchet and First Aid to help. First Aid was going for the mission as well because Ratchet 'had a strange feeling about this one', something that sometimes paid off as they hurried along.

Behind him slagging each other cheerfully, Sideswipe, Sunstreaker and Arcee herself came, too. They loaded up, the door closed and Cosmos rose into the air soundlessly. He was lost to sight almost immediately.

The Autobots watching began to walk back to the hangar through crowds of military and civilian spectators where the audio of the operation as standard procedure was broadcast. It was sent to the humans as part of N.E.S.T. governing protocols and they were using them. The video of the individual Autobots would only be broadcast in the Embassy Ops Center.

Graham, Lennox and three other soldiers were already gathered at Cosmos and were boarding their gear.

Autobots who weren't on duty lounged throughout the entire building complex listening and watching as ever. In Ops Center, calmly turning this way and that, giving orders and encouragement in his usual manner, Prowl held sway. Somewhere in this new world, this new reality, the best they had were going to war. He had their back and he used all his skills, ability and talents to make sure that they would come home alive again.

-0-At the drop zone

They gathered together outside of the pools of light that the tall overhead poles dropped around the field. The Autobots hit the target dead center and moved to join the others. A grid had been determined and the search would go accordingly. Hound would take Epps while Ironhide and Springer a soldier apiece. They'd all be linked to each other, to Prime and to Diego. They would follow the search order and adjust according to the ground situation and the direction of their commanders.

They transformed, loaded up and rolled to the exits that accommodated vehicles, briefly exchanging words with the F.B.I. agents that were there to let them out and guard the space as their field HQ and triage center. Nothing more could be added to what they already knew so they moved on pulling out onto 20th Street. At that point, they divided up and began to parallel each other, their sensor sweeps combing the area for signatures and Bumblebee.

There was no sign of either.

-0-Somewhere in the Four Corners area

Bumblebee who was racing at his top speed flying over the sparsely traveled road almost made it to Colorado. That he didn't was testimony to the figure chasing him. Clocking in some of the flatter sections of roadway at an astounding 430 miles per hour, he was losing the footrace.

A lucky hit by the pursuer's gyro-flight blades not only told Bee who was pursuing him but managed to carve a series of slashing injuries in his chassis that had been leaking energon for miles. He felt the pain and dialed down his receptors but he couldn't do much with the injury. He had to outrun or out think Barricade soon or he’d falter and be at the killer's mercy.

He barreled onward ignoring as best he could the warning messages popping up in his processor. It was a signature of his hard helmed mini-con toughness and overall escalating debilitation that he didn't call for help.

-0-Denver

20th Street was deserted and from the accumulation of snow falling would be slow recovering in the morning when people came back to the area. It was rising in increasing flurries which began obscuring the vision of the soldiers.

Epps who was sitting in Hound peered into the darkness, the splotches of illumination from street lights failing to be much help. The storm was increasing in magnitude making an already difficult mission harder.

They broke into three hunting groups, Hound and Epps rolling slowly down Blake Street, Springer and his soldier moving down Market as Ironhide drove off for another parallel street nearby, rolling down 20th. Hound and Epps, going against the one way traffic on Blake, a thoroughly deserted street this dark night moved along slowly as Hound's sensors stretched out searching for anything alien.

Springer rolled down Market going with the flow, his heavy duty green and yellow Ram Charger pickup truck alt vehicle form filling with falling snow. For a moment it was quiet, then a huge blast echoed, itself slightly muffled by the storm.

Springer stopped and tumbled his soldier out, transforming as he brought his rifle from subspace. He glanced at his soldier who was standing in knee deep snow in night vision glasses, his weapon ready. Signaling him to stay along the buildings and back behind his towering form, Springer moved swiftly toward Blake Street where the epicenter of the blast had originated.

-0-On Silverbolt

Optimus concentrated on the screens that played out internally as an assortment of information both visual, textual and audio flowing into his processor. A split screen allowed him to have two views of his divided team. The top three views were the visual picture each mech had in their field of vision. The bottom views were the readouts on their internal sensor screens. They had conjoined the information to their controller mech, Prime, and allowed it to be transferred to Prowl in Diego.

Prime could see what Hound could see. It was an enormous rush of a black shape swooping downward, then a missile launch. Unable to transform because Epps was riding inside, Hound swerved and when the missile hit the ground near to him he was thrown bodily off his tires into the building that was beside him, glass and bricks shattering on impact. Then his two screens went black. By the time they did Optimus Prime was already falling through the night on his way to Coors Field.

-0-Diego

"Prowl to Cosmos."

"Cosmos, Prowl."

"Hurry. There’s injuries. Hound is down."

"Affirmative," Cosmos said as the line cut out.

Prowl who was holding a datapad by the command table handed to him by Red Alert glanced at it.

Red who was standing before him nearly quivering with tension turned to glance at it, as if to underscore the information in importance. "Aerialbots, Prowl," he said in his indomitable manner. "Three incoming and another two mechs as yet unidentified but Autobot."

"Red, contact them and tell them to get here as fast as you can. I want them scrambled immediately. You run them, get them the information they need to function straight off the ground and hurry."

Red Alert nodded then blazed out of the Ops Center for the beach side landing space the incoming Autobots used when they finally made the journey to Earth.

Prowl considering the Primus sent gift that it was commed Prime. "Aerialbots will be sent shortly," he said, his transmission clipped and tense. "It appears that Teletraan has picked up Seekers."

"Affirmative," Prime said. "Get the Med Bay ready to accept incoming. Have you heard from Bumblebee?"

"Negative. I'll re-position a satellite and scan the roadway from California."

"Good. I will keep you posted. Prime out."

Prowl heard the tension in his voice, the focus, and knew that it must be trouble in a big way for him to make the jump. He worried about Hound even as he alerted the Med Bay. Then he commed Ratchet. "Prowl to Ratchet."

"Ratchet here."

"There's going to be wounded. Hound fell off the radar. He won't respond. Triage at Coors Field."

"Affirmative. Ratchet out."

Prowl then walked to Teletraan and began to key in a very powerful long range camera to scan the highway with all its gullies and off roads between California and Colorado.

** (Note: All information about gender and Hound is canon.) **


	2. Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> read part one for the summary, continuous story

Chapter 26

  
  


-0-On the Arizona desert

He drove as fast as he could, airborne half the time as he raced for Denver and the possibility that the Decepticons would be trying to give Cybertronian technology to criminal humans. By now, Smokescreen would be with Sam sitting outside his dorm with his sensors cast wide and optics sighted in.

Behind Bee driving fast enough to keep up, Barricade considered his orders. He wasn't to intervene in the Autobot's trip until he reached the border of Colorado. Then he was to maim Bee and leave him crumpled in the dust by the side of the road. Starscream didn't tell him why he wasn't to finish off the mini-con. He was just to follow orders.

It rankled.

Barricade was an intense bad ass killer who fervently believed if he could see you then you were already dead. He loathed Starscream and followed Megatron because he respected him more. Given that, his respect was situational. The only one he really trusted was himself.

Here on Earth at this time with Megatron missing, the sub-commander was in charge. He didn't like it but he liked Bumblebee even less. The last time they had clashed, the mini-con had trashed him. He had been made by his situation to recover without treatment and there were still kinks in his system that hampered his effectiveness. For that, the Autobot deserved to die very slowly and painfully.

"Injure him, break him. Make the AllSpark know it was us. But do not kill him, Barricade. Do as I say," the hulking Seeker had hissed at him, his venomous stupidity regarding his mission as insulting to a professional mayhem bringer like Barricade here as it was on Cybertron. He pushed to the limit of his top speed, the yellow flank of the mini-con finally hoving into view once more.

-0-On the ground in Denver

Prime transformed then peeled out blowing through the gates as the humans stepped aside to let him go. He turned the corner at 20th and Blake going against the traffic designation, plowing through the accumulating snow with ease. By the time he had reached the scene, Ratchet was already there with the twins, Arcee and First Aid. He transformed and moved forward gently grasping Hound's rear fender as they turned him over. Hound sat down on his tires with a muffled thud as Robert Epps flailed inside.

Ratchet pulled him out gently, then handed him to Prime. Prime set him down on the sidewalk, positioning him out of the wind under a battered awning. He turned to watch as Ratchet reached inside of Hound to manually activate his transformation cog. Slowly, grinding loudly, he did to sprawl face down in the show.

They turned him over as Ratchet scanned him, pulling gear from subspace to patch on the fly a number of deep wounds from shattered steel girders, flying bricks and mortar. As they stood in a half circle waiting for Ratchet to signal Hound's transfer as another series of blasts ripped the street. They stepped back for shelter. Ratchet flung himself over Hound then looked up to curse loudly after the Seeker flew upward.

"Prime to Prowl."

:Prowl here:

"Aerialbots?"

"On their way," Prowl said glancing at the radar. It’d been remarkable how quickly they’d assimilated formats, then taking off to fly at top speed toward the shores of North America. Teletraan had downloaded the shortest route between Diego and Colorado so they were off, flying in a tight formation, changing places periodically to allow half the team to draft behind the leaders and spare fatigue from their long journey. "I put their ETA, all things being equal in about eight and a half minutes."

"We have Seekers," Prime said. "Make sure they hurry. Silverbolt will rendezvous but not before they are here to add air support."

:Affirmative:

"Ratchet has Hound. We will load him on Cosmos and send him to Diego. Have rescue on the tarmac. Send Cosmos back and have him post in a high orbit."

:Affirmative, sir: Prowl said as Prime turned back to the problem at hand.

He stood in the storm with snow accumulating on his body when a pip on his sensors read Decepticon. He rapped Springer directing him to take Sunstreaker, retrace back to the Field and go up Wewatta Street, then right on Park Avenue West. They nodded, transforming to leave in a flurry of snow.

Turning to Sideswipe and Arcee, he directed them to give cover to Ratchet as he sent a signal to the triage center that there would be wounded coming in. He transformed, his trailer beckoning from subspace and after loading Hound, they began to leave together. Epps was safely and warmly inside Sideswipe as they drove to their field HQ. Sideswipe covered their retreat as Ratchet lead the way.

-0-Ironhide

He drove slowly along 20th Avenue moving toward the next left turn, a road named Market Street that paralleled Blake. Turning into the flow of normal traffic, traffic that wasn't there due to the storm, he heard and saw the blast that took out Hound. Turning around to floor it as best he could, he drove to the corner where 22nd Street crossed Market.

-0-Prime and Sideswipe

They barreled out of Coors Field heading down 20th Street and back up Blake to assist the others again. As they did the signature of a Decepticon was beginning to appear through the interference of the storm. They parked in the middle of the street, transformed, then pinged Ironhide. He pinged back.

On a heavily encrypted line Prime laid out the plan with Sideswipe poised beside him, his battle face and swords his armor. The signature was ahead and given the attack so far they couldn’t assume that the Cons didn't know they were being hunted or that the Decepticon registering was no more than another trick.

The two moved out and were roughly half a block behind Ironhide so the big Autobot waited, letting his soldier out as he transformed with his canons coming online. Ironhide knelt down on one knee giving directions to the soldier who went to a building to use it for cover. Ironhide swept the street and buildings around with his night vision goggles, his weapon pointing in each direction as he turned slowly in a circle. Ironhide counted off the kliks in his mind then moved forward sensing that he and the other two nearby were in sync. His soldier walked along the buildings, blending in out of sight of danger.

-0-Nearby

The irritated form of Scorponok stood in the snow of an alleyway off Market, his sensors recording forms nearby of Cybertronian origin. His radar was still suspect after the debacle in Egypt, the level of mechanical medical treatment he’d received being minimal, if that much. Starscream had not been terribly interested in his personal problems. He just wanted him to do what he did almost better than anyone else, deliver weapons and other technology to aliens in violation of the Tyrest Treaties and other laws of Cybertron and space.

He wasn't the smartest bot in the galaxy but he was cunning, wily, tenacious and unafraid. He’d secreted in his body a fusion weapon, one that was slated to be dropped off at a particular place in this Primus forsaken warren of insect houses and streets. A human insect would be there to get it but they were late.

The storm, he considered, the storm had made a routine drop off problematic. He knew that Starscream, their nominal leader while their real and only leader was elsewhere, wherever that was would be seriously fragged. He didn't care. The cold was harming his systems, he was alone in a city that he didn't know and there were Autobots around.

He considered how he’d eluded Ultra Magnus for eons and he felt the same confidence now. That would be his first big mistake. His second would be what he did with that confidence.

-0-Ironhide

He stalked forward listening through the howling wind, peered through the howling snowfall. It was streaming into his face, the wind carrying it full on straight. Reaching the corner of 22nd Street, he paused in the shadows to wait until Prime and Sideswipe's signatures reached the same place on their street a block away.

They pinged their presence so Ironhide ran to the middle of the intersection to hunker down. Covering Prime and Sideswipe, they hurried across on Blake and waited on the other side of the intersection while Ironhide arose to cross the open space himself.

That's when the sound of a screaming engine came through the haze and muffled silence, the sound of a Seeker on a strafing run. Prime and Sideswipe turned as one and drawing on sensors for targeting fired at the same time. The Seeker lay down fire and flew upward again, the three turning with it to shoot. As they did another one flying perpendicularly to the other lay down fire through 22nd Street, through the Blake Street intersection scattering Prime and Sideswipe and along the street through the Market Street intersection where Ironhide stood.

Ironhide turned quickly and jumped but the weapons fire hit him spinning him in the air and all four point nine metric tons of the big mech hit the ground hard. He rolled and rolled slamming into a building to take out a light pole, the electricity popping and sparking before the block east of him went dark.

Just one block from them leaning against a building blinded by the snowfall, Scorponok having guided the Seeker strafing runs felt only deep disgust at their failure so he cut his losses and began to dig. He dug down through the asphalt street, through the pipes and lines below and by the time they would find his departure point later, he was thirty miles away moving underground tunneling his way south.

-0-Near the Colorado border

He stood on the gully side staring down into the shallow ravine. It was a basin carved from flooding and though it wasn't deep, barreling through the air at over two hundred miles an hour and falling into it was a bad thing to occur to one's confidence and chassis.

Barricade stood on the lip of the hill, the road nearby showing the shredded tires of the spectacular accident that had taken the Autobot out of the game. It took all he had to transform to go, leaving the little yellow pile of scrap behind.

/... later, you little fragger. Later when it doesn't matter ... you and me.../

-0-Coors Field

They were loading Hound when Ratchet bent over, his cry piercing the muffled silence of the Field. He clawed at his chassis and hung for a moment bent over with an incredible pain. Then he straightened.

Sunstreaker held him erect, his servo gripping Ratchet's arm.

Ratchet looked at Sunny, then the others with growing panic. "Ironhide," he whispered. Then he cried out and moved forward shaking free of Sunstreaker's grip. Running toward the exit nearby, transforming on the fly, he tore across the grounds, through the gate and into the storm.

Behind him rolling equally as fast, Springer, Sunstreaker and a human squad car followed.

-0-On the street

They turned Ironhide over and saw that the damage to his chest was significant. There was burned armor that was still smoking in spots and a hole was in his chest.

Prime knelt to hold Ironhide's helm as he searched the big mech for any sign of life. As they stood around him shielding Ironhide from the falling snow, the curses and cries for medics echoed over the comm link from the street where they huddled onward to the corridors, rooms and hangars of Diego Garcia.

The human HQ had a text and visual feed but audio involving Autobots was not permitted. Their soldiers could speak and they heard them but the Autobot video comm lines were for the Autobot HQ only. Confusion and cross purposes were eliminated that way along with control of images but the orderly chaos of the human N.E.S.T. HQ was in stark contrast to the tension and quiet attentiveness of the Autobots.

They stood in knots, alone and at stations listening to the explosions, screaming of tires, curses, shots and felt dread.

Ironhide was down.

Hound was down.

They all itched to be there.

A screeching sound could be heard but they didn't know for a moment that it was Ratchet transforming to slide on his side for a distance in the ice and snow. He clawed his way to his peds and hurried to the side of the silent form of the big Autobot. Ironhide was still, off line and for all intents and purposes seemingly dead in initial appearance.

Prime was kneeling holding Ironhide's head off the ground in his servos, the expression on his face terrible to see. The others, the soldiers and the Autobots gathered around forming a perimeter around them. Some looked up, their firearms pointed to the sky and others knelt in the circle, their weapons pointed outward to cover the streets.

Ratchet began by pulling Ironhide further over onto his back. Then in the darkness of the dimmed street under a falling snow he could see the blue flickering light of Ironhide's spark faintly through the hole in his chest.

-0-Aerialbots

They reached Colorado blasting into the airspace of the Mile High City to find a faint trace of the Seekers who had cut their loses and ran. They radioed Silverbolt whose joy at their appearance at last on Earth was cut short by the terrifying traffic over his audials. While he waited to transport the wounded and the team, they gave cover overhead.

-0-Ratchet and Ironhide

Ratchet saw the hole and he saw his servos but nothing else. He saw the hole and he feverishly worked to protect it, the notched corner of Ironhide's spark chamber damage making his spark vulnerable. Ratchet subbed a tool kit tearing it open with his servos, scattering tools as he searched for what he needed.

Prime holding Ironhide still even though the mech hadn't moved watched Ratchet as he muttered unintelligibly to himself, turning to work as swiftly as he dared to stabilize Ironhide.

His servos, all Ratchet saw was the hole and his servos.

He straddled Ironhide peering closely into the wound. He reached for a tool and removed with as much care as he could a partially melted chunk of Ironhide's impossibly strong durable epidermal armor. He cast it aside and reached for a patch, gently placing it on the site, then pulling it off. He reached for cutters clipping the armor, folding it slightly. It molded to fit around the corner of Ironhide's chassis to cover the flickering spark as it lit the night through the burned charred spot on the edge of his spark chamber.

His servos, his trembling servos worked feverishly as the hole grew smaller, then it fit. He transformed a digit, welding the patch into place, the medical metallic plate melting like butter under the torch. He reached into the kit pulling a monitoring device and began to program it, his eyes flickering between the device and the silent face of the only mech he ever loved with all his spark, with all his processor and all his days and nights through the eons of their youth, young adulthood and maturity. He held Ironhide's life in his trembling servos as he worked feverishly.

He placed the device in the center of Ironhide's chassis punching in the code that would maintain a force field around that part of his body. It was a critical care device and he’d used it before saving some and not others. Each loss was terrible but this one if it were a loss would claim him, too, taking him away from the numbing terrifying idea of life alone. His servos trembled as he punched the last configuration into the small device. It sputtered as snow fell upon it. He cried out, cursing as he wiped the snow away, blowing on the scree to warm it up. Then it hummed, the sparkle of the field igniting, then disappearing as it kicked into life.

He sat and counted, the data on the device working through the routine that allowed it to formulate the size of the mech's spark chamber, the quality of the spark under assault and the intensity of protection it should generate to secure the structural integrity of the spark chamber itself. When it reached 80%, the minimum for transport, they could leave.

42%.

48%.

Coolant pooled in Ratchet's optics, the snow blinding him as he held his servos over the device. Ironhide was disappearing under a thin blanket of white as the snow began to fall harder. So did the others, his comrades-in-arms, his fellow Cybertronians, the Autobots that he’d thrown in with as a much younger mech, those that he loved even now as the wretchedness of his situation ate at his processor.

"Please, Primus. Come on, come on," Ratchet whispered watching his servos, watching the device slowly click upward, the energy field taking care and time as it slowly, carefully generated protection for Ironhide's endangered spark.

67%.

73%.

His servos trembled and the snow piled up, whiting them out as he protected the box.

77%.

78%.

80%.

He let looked up at Prime, himself stricken and silent, covered head to foot with a blanket of snow. "We can take him now. We have to get him to base. **We can't wait, Optimus! Help me! Help me!"** Ratchet cried, reaching out a servo to Prime in his agony. **"Help me! We have to hurry!"**

Prime gently lay Ironhide's helm down and rose to bark orders. A field stretcher was pulled from subspace, the bots lifted Ironhide onto it with an agonized Ratchet watching and directing. Then they picked him up to carry the distance, not daring to put him in a vehicle. They began to make the three block trek to the field where Silverbolt waited for them, the word going ahead to Diego that a critical spark injury was incoming.

They made their strange appearing journey to the great jet and loaded Ironhide carefully, his silent figure lying along the same side of the plane as Hound's. Cosmos took the soldiers, then pulled up and away.

Will Lennox reassured Prime that he’d stay and take care of the scene. The rest boarded then Silverbolt lifted off led to Diego by the enraged Aerialbots who covered them all the way.

It was silent but for Ratchet whispering to Ironhide, telling him in their own language that he was going to make it. First Aid sitting beside Hound watched with a stricken expression as they wend their way back to base.

When they arrived the entire Autobot contingent not on duty was there to greet them, a silent mass of comrades gathering to see if they could help.

Silverbolt lowered his jump door and the stretchers were moved out, Ironhide first. Ratchet had hold of one corner, the twins and Springer the others. He stumbled on the ramp so they halted to wait for him.

Prowl took his arm and pulled him away as Red Alert took hold of the stretcher. Moving carefully, they walked to the hangar complex as mechs parted to let them pass, then followed behind.

First Aid made it to Med Bay first halting at the door. **"I need volunteers!"**

The sound of heavy footfalls could be heard as mechs came from all over and formed a line to donate energon. As they stood in a grim silent line, the stretcher bearing Ironhide carried by equally grim-faced friends and comrades, their Prime included, passed by to enter the Med Bay followed by a silent Prowl holding Ratchet's arm. They passed to disappear inside leaving the silent line behind.

-0-At the Colorado border some time later

A truck drove up halting beside the wash. For a moment there was no sound, then a transformation occurred. Shining his headlights downward, Springer saw the broken slowly reviving chassis of a yellow mini-con. He walked down and knelt beside Bumblebee. Patting the youngster's shoulder, he spoke gently. "Bee, Prime sent me. Cosmos will be here soon. We'll get you out of here shortly. Hang on."

Bumblebee lay back subspacing his weapons and relaxed, glad to see a friendly. He’d lain in the ditch, his repair systems working slowly as he scanned with one broken optic and a shattered leg and arm for the menacing figure of Barricade. He closed his good optic and fell into a light painful recharge.

Chapter 27

  
  


-0-Diego Garcia, Med Bay

He leaned on the cart staring at the array of tools on the tray before him. The lights were muted but for the ones directly over Ironhide. He lay on the med berth silently, his wounds mocking Ratchet. The medico was gearing up going over the procedure in his processor as he would perform it in a breem. It just needed his steady servos and uninterrupted attention.

The triage had been done while numerous pieces of dermal armor were removed and taken to Wheeljack's lab to be placed in a special solution in preparation for being smelted and reformed. The materials that formed Ironhide's armor were rare and specific, incredibly expensive to say the least and not found on Earth for the most part. It harder than just about any material used by Cybertronians and therefore recycling was necessary to bring the front liner back to peak form. He would have to go to an armorer on Cybertron who specialized in highly rare and costly armor to get new replacements.

The patches that covered the lesser wounds were medical plating, temporary grafts for now. Ironhide's armor was so strong it was nearly impervious to weapon's fire. It would take a strafing by a Seeker, heavy weapons fire landing at point blank to do to him what this had done. The shock that Ironhide had been this wounded in the chassis, his most impermeable point had shattered Ratchet and nearly everyone else for a moment.

Now he needed to shake that off, gather his wits and skill to begin to piece the big oaf back together. He glanced at Ironhide as an expression of almost terrible fondness formed on his face. He leaned over to kiss him gently, tracing with a digit his own name and the words of love engraved on Ironhide's helm. "Hang on," he whispered in their language. "You **will** be mine again."

Then he began.

The spark wound would take time so he began to place better grafts than the field patches on the wounds that had been made when the plasma charge hit Ironhide's armor. It had landed against its nearly impenetrable surface and splattering under impact caused burns over a wide area. He formed, cut, bent and shaped silver high density dermal medical plating that would promote in a highly charged manner the protoform underneath, then welded it onto the missing places where black armor had once been.

Replacements would be smelted and reformed, further surgery for their replacement minor. Nothing he was doing now was life threatening. When that was finished he turned to face the silent figure of Prowl.

He stood behind Ratchet watching silently as he held an energon cube in his hand. He held it out to Ratchet silently imploring him to take it.

Ratchet wavered, then took it, downing it like a cube of high grade. "Thank you, Prowl."

"You're welcome," Prowl said, his worried optics saying what his mouth couldn't. "Optimus is at a follow up meeting in the N.E.S.T. Headquarters. He asked if there was anything you needed. He asked how it was going. We're all worried for Ironhide. **And** you," he added taking the empty cube from Ratchet.

"Tell him that the little stuff went well. I'm going to repair the spark chamber now," Ratchet said rubbing his face tiredly. "When that's done, then we just have to monitor him as his internal repair assemblies take over. I'll be keeping him on a spark monitor until he reaches 98% or better on his own. His baseline for all his systems runs at 98%. I won't let him out of here at less."

"I’ll tell Optimus," Prowl said quietly, his optics moving from Ratchet to Ironhide and back again.

"I'm happy for you, Prowl," Ratchet said glancing at Ironhide. "You and Prime are a good match and it took you both long enough."

Prowl smiled slightly. "Well, we had friends."

Ratchet nodded. He looked at Prowl as coolant pooled in his optics. "That's all we have don't we … friends. What else matters?"

Prowl nodded, then turned to go. Halting, he looked back at Ratchet. He walked back, reached out and hugged the medic, relief filling him as Ratchet hugged him back. They stood together holding each other, then Prowl stepped back, his reticent and hard boiled self control hindering as usual what he wanted to say. "I will tell Optimus."

Ratchet nodded.

"You’ll please tell us what you need, Ratchet. We’re with you," Prowl said nodding helplessly.

Ratchet nodded back as he rubbed his eyes. "I know, Prowl. Thank you."

With an emotional expression on his face, Prowl walked out of the Med Bay. Sitting nearby waiting for his bond to come out of medically induced stasis, Trailbreaker watched silently, feeling as an intruder on a private moment. He turned in his seat to look down at Hound as he squeezed the big mech's servo. / what a terrible welcome home, Hound, this is .../

-0-At the Sickbay, N.E.S.T. HQ, Diego Garcia

Robert Epps sat on the edge of the bed, a corpsman holding a cup and a glass of water. He was being released and all he had to do was take pain medication for a few days. He'd been lucky. Hound had taken the blast and the blows. Epps had felt the interior of Hound's alt mode grip him, holding him as delicately as he could to cushion the blows that were coming.

It had saved his life. He owed his life to Hound.

As it was, he was determined to go to the Autobot Med Bay to find out what had happened to Hound. He’d heard scuttlebutt that Ironhide had taken a hit and he wanted to find out about that, too. Apparently, the Autobots were being very tight lipped about the injuries of their members, not telling anyone anything beyond that they were in Med Bay.

He took his medication, rising stiffly from the medical berth as he did. Thanking everyone who had cared for him, signing out at the desk, he limped out the door determined to make the long walk across base to the Autobot HQ. They might not tell anyone else what was what, but they would tell him. He was family.

-0-On the tarmac at the same time

A stretcher came down the ramp of Cosmos' loading bay borne carried by mechs and followed by Springer. Laying on the stretcher, his battered figure recognizable in spite of his injuries was Bumblebee. He’d been found hours earlier lying in a ditch wounded and dented, his energon levels low and his processor feeling the effects of it.

Springer was sent. 'One Riot, One Wrecker' … 'Wreck 'n Rule' was their motto. He had found Bumblebee and commed Cosmos who was waiting in orbit, scanning the countryside as he directing Springer to the dry wash gully where Bee was laying. A short ride to Garcia was had and all the prodigals were safely home.

He was carried to the hangar with people greeting him with relief and comedy. Bee gave it back in equal measure. He didn't know about Ironhide, he didn't know that the mechs he idolized more than any other, Prowl and Prime were together, he didn't know anything more than he’d failed his mission to get to Colorado and help Arcee do preliminary scouting for the criminals and the Cons who were seeking alliances.

He lay back in painful weariness feeling like chump change as they carried him down to Med Bay and help.

-0-Ratchet and Ironhide

The welding tool worked within and without protective med fields so Ratchet was able to carefully, slowly slice away parts of the spark chamber that had been irretrievably damaged in the attack. As he was doing so, Wheeljack was in his lab using the aid of Perceptor to make an exact match for the corner that could be introduced and attached to the chamber that was there already.

It was decided that replacing the entire chamber, removing Ironhide's spark as a consequence was too fraught with complicated possibilities on a planet with few of the raw materials they used to make the things they really needed, especially spark chambers.

Ratchet wanted the easiest best next solution so they’d studied it carefully. Perceptor would do the math, Wheeljack would craft the replacement part and Ratchet would install it. Between them, there was no one in the history of Cybertron that could match them for skill and creativity. Ironhide was in the best hands possible.

-0-On the tarmac

The big plane arrived and dropped its bay doors. Black SUVs rolled out, three of them and they were filled with men, big men wearing flack jackets and dark glasses. They rolled toward the soldier's HQ and stopped before the Administrative Building. A man exited dressed in suit and jacket with a briefcase in his hand. He walked into the building leaving the others outside.

Some got out to stand around the vehicles while others sat both inside and halfway out, staring around themselves to get a feel for the place. They looked like hired muscle wearing the ‘uniform’ of mercenaries everywhere. They would automatically not be welcome among the professional soldiers. No one liked mercs.

On two worlds ...

On the other side of the tarmac a flotilla of cars were parked in the sunlight absorbing energy and recharging their solar batteries and solar powered equipment. The newcomers looked at them, pointing to some as they talked together. The Autobots on the other hand gave them no attention at all.

-0-Ratchet, Wheeljack and Perceptor

Together they reviewing the delicately designed microscopically exact device as it rotated on a monitor over the med berth that Ironhide lay upon. They talked about its configuration, its chemical content, its exacting specifications and how it would fit when inserted. For nearly a breem they discussed it then Ratchet nodded, satisfied with all its aspects. "He's such a slagger getting pounded on all the time. If this is micro-welded in place, I want the bond to be permanent, as if it had never happened."

"That's why it took a bit of time to make the chemical composition just so. This is going to bond and the bond will be even stronger than the rest of the chamber," Perceptor said. "We know he falls a lot."

Ratchet smiled considering the unintended comedy of that remark. Then he realized it was the first time he had smiled in a long while. "Thank you, Perceptor. Thank you, Wheeljack. I appreciate your talent and your effort."

They smiled back, then looked at the larger hole in Ironhide's chamber. Ratchet had carved off micro bits, some smaller than a filament in an optic disk, traditionally one of the smallest and hardest parts to replace or repair. They stepped back and watched as Ratchet roughed the edges of the hole and then with a delicacy that one would not attach to the gruff medico, he tested the fit by slowly lowering it into the hole. It was snug, as snug as the parts once were that he’d chipped out.

Grinning at Perceptor and Wheeljack who were silently ecstatic, he reached for his micro welder and began the terrifically slow, incredibly difficult task of making an impermeable seal around the soul of the only mech he would ever love in this or any other lifetime.

-0-Inside the Administrative Building

The new guy, newly arrived from some place he didn't elaborate on, with men and SUVs to command walked into the building, asking to see the CO as he briskly flipped open a State Department badge. The Officer of the Day rose to walk through corridors of orderly chaos and out the back door.

Crossing the tarmac where troops of soldiers jogged in formation, worked on vehicles or lounged here and there to watch the Embassy and the hot cars sitting here and there, they reached a big hangar. They entered its cooler, darker confines and walked past a mass of computers, screens, miles of cable and rows of personnel manning the information nexus of the N.E.S.T. Command hub on base.

As they passed the last row of monitors and sensors, he saw it at last. Or at least, that's the word that entered his mind.

It.

Looking up with his mouth hanging open, he stared at the back of Optimus Prime, Autobot Commander and leader of the weirdest aliens anyone ever believed possible. The alien was in conference with someone on a screen that was one of many mounted on a tall structure that was reached, he presumed, by the ladders that faced each end of the platform. On top, the platform was covered in screens and personnel who sat there working the gear that allowed conversation.

Soldiers were on the platform and as he reached the steps he saw the practicality of the structure. It made it possible to have a conversation with someone nearly thirty feet tall.

Climbing upward, he paused at the top aware that no one was paying any attention to him. Optimus had been aware of him when he drove off the plane with his flotilla of mechs and vehicles. No one else paid attention so he didn't bring it up. Right now he was interested in what General Morshower had to say about Denver.

"And it was clear that they were held up by the storm. We have traced the tunnel that Scorponok made and it would appear that it disappears about fifty miles south of Denver." The general was sitting in his command center at the Pentagon in Virginia back in the U.S.A.

"Scorponok has the capacity to go very, very deep and far," Optimus said.

"Excuse me."

Morshower and Prime paused their conversation to look at the figure standing at the end of the platform. The figure walked forward to pause by the speakers. He nodded to Morshower who was watching him from the monitor screen with half a dozen aides sitting around with him.

The stranger turned toward Prime, looking upward with a trace of awe at the impressive figure of the oldest living being he would ever see in his life. Of course, he didn't know that. He just knew that he was here to investigate and observe, chart, graph and otherwise probe the aliens in their midst for his boss. That he wouldn't tell them that or who he worked for was beside the point. He had his own orders and intended to follow them to a tee.

"I'm Jason Daniels," he said briskly. "I'm the civilian liaison for the United States government and the State Department."

Morshower sighed then sat back in his comfortable chair to trade looks with Prime. Once again, he had not gotten the memo. And from the look on Prime's face, neither did he.

Chapter 28

  
  


-0-Med Bay

By the time Bumblebee was brought into Med Bay Ratchet had closed the hole in Ironhide's spark chamber. The stasis field still was in place as a protective measure but only just so. Ratchet who felt exhausted mentally and emotionally had finished, tossing the welding tool that had done the finish work onto the instrument cart.

First Aid who had silently watched the procedure patted Ratchet. "That was impressive, Ratchet."

Ratchet smiled faintly. "That was my pinnacle, First Aid. It's all downhill from here."

First Aid grinned sympathetically at Ratchet, then turned toward the racket from the hallway which was becoming louder. A stretcher borne by four mechs entered with a painfully bent and mangled Bumblebee stretched out upon it.

Springer came along behind and helped them move the little mini-con onto the med bed by the door where First Aid pointed.

"What the frag happened to you, Bumblebee?" Ratchet asked as he walked to the small Autobot. "You're in pain?"

Bee nodded as he lay back suddenly exhausted from relief.

Ratchet watched the monitors as First Aid took his stats. "You're low," Ratchet said shaking his head. "You'll need a couple of transfusions right away." He glanced at Springer who had walked over and was looking at Ironhide. "Hi, Springer."

"Ratchet." Springer said as he regarded Ratchet quietly. "You look like slag. You really didn't expect that this old fragger was going anywhere did you?"

"He almost did," Ratchet said. "What happened to Bee?"

Springer shook his helm, gathering the few things Bumblebee could tell him into his thoughts. "He was chased for about five hundred miles before careening off the road. Barricade managed to wound him and the energon loss was his downfall. He might have made it to Denver otherwise. But the strangest part was, he stood over Bee and Bee figured it was up. Then he said, 'Starscream wanted you to know he ordered this, that he wants you broken in half and for you to tell Prime.' Then he left."

"What?" Ratchet asked with surprise. His processor hurt and he was as tired as he'd felt during the height of the war on Cybertron. "Barricade is about as lenient with his potential victims as I am with dumb afts. What does that mean and what the slag has Starscream got crammed sideways in his exhaust vents now?"

Springer shook his helm. A broad smile graced his lips. "Don't know, Ratch. Screamer needs a thorough beating."

"I hope you can deliver it. Soon," Ratchet said as he looked at the little mini-con. First Aid began the initial repairs of his battered frame. "The last thing we need is obtuse devious slag from that jackass."

Springer grinned. "I gotta go. Some new humans have come with SUVs and a new human wrangler. They look like mercs. Prime wants me to keep an eye on them until we figure out what they want. Bringing hired guns with a bureaucrat doesn't sound right to him."

"Or me," Ratchet agreed as he considered Autobot Public Enemy #1, Theodore Galloway. It appeared that they had another one.

Springer paused beside Bumblebee, then left.

Ratchet walked to Bee, resting his hands on his hip assemblies as he considered the kid. "You look like you're the bug this time, Bee. No pun intended."

Bee grinned. "You should see the other mech."

Ratchet shook his head. "You could get paddled for telling whoppers but I think you might just like it if I did."

Bee grinned then looked across the room, gazing once to the revived and now recovering Hound and the off line self repairing Ironhide. "What happened?" he asked innocently.

-0-Ops Center, later

Optimus Prime walked into Ops Center nodding to the mechs on duty as he made his way to Teletraan III where Prowl was standing. He considered how beautiful Prowl was and the indefinable thing that came to him each time he looked at the mech now. The stark clean lines of his paint scheme, black and white, and the startlingly beautiful red of his chevron, that was part of it. His big mech wings moving to absorb data or to reflect his mood, that was also part of it. The competence, calm dignity, the elegance of his form called to him whenever he saw him.

Then Prowl turned to look at him, the warmth of his blue optics reaching into Prime's spark. He grinned to the big mech. That was it he thought, the thing that made him feel like a kid, like a mech that could overcome anything put before him. Those blue optics and that look, that incredible look.

When it wasn’t aiming torpedoes at him for fragging up some of his carefully laid plans. Those optics. Optimus grinned in spite of himself.

"How was the meeting, sir?" Prowl asked as he walked toward Prime, stopping to stare up at the eight feet of height difference between them.

Prime looked down as Prowl's blue optics reached into his spark and captured him once more in their power. "We have a new problem," he said taking Prowl's arm to steer him toward a corner of the room. He looked at Prowl, at the expectant slightly frowning face looking.

"A new group is here,” he said, “and they are staying in the transient officer's barracks at the other end of the base. They are hired guns from a firm called Intel-Martin who runs them. They are the group that is involved in contract security in the Middle East and their reputation as killers, abusers and hot head drunks is not good. We have to investigate them and get plans in line if they become a problem."

Prowl nodded. "I'll work on it. I'll have Jazz research them. Do we have a list of the individuals?"

"I suppose that Jazz can get it and not leave a trace," Prime suggested with a smile. Prowl smiled back and Prime felt his spark squeeze.

"I’ll see to it myself," Prowl said glancing at Jazz who was lounging in his chair trading quips with Mirage as he worked his shift. "I wonder ... do you have anything for Mirage to do? After all, the humans say 'all is fair in love and war'."

Prime grinned faintly, his optics shining with pleasure. "You read my mind."

Prowl smiled, the genuine feeling of love on Prime's face almost overwhelming. "Consider this my problem and not yours, Optimus."

Prime quashed a desire to hug Prowl, to kiss him and thank him for all that he did consciously and unconsciously to make Prime happy and his job easier. "I have a conference call to the F.B.I. in Denver."

"All right," Prowl said as reluctant to part as Prime. They stood together for a moment savoring the difference in their proximity now, then Prime slowly walked off the command deck with a lighter step in his peds than usual.

Prowl watched him until he left. Then as he thought through a dozen and a half possible scenarios for the new problem and a set of objectives for both Mirage and Jazz to work on for the next few orns, he came back to reality. With a lighter step of his own, he walked to Jazz and Mirage and began to plan their nefarious scheme.

-0-At the Transient Officer's Barracks

They moved in, nine security personnel and a bureaucrat. Once quarters were established, they walked out together to the mess hall nearby. They were easy to spot, their self-identifying matching black Kevlar vests, ubiquitous sunglasses and pistols strapped to hips a dead giveaway to the pros who lived and worked here.

Civilians and soldiers, airmen and women walked past along with sailors and marines. They knew what they were seeing and although they were curious they also carried the usual disgust that professionals felt for those who would do what they did for money, that and worse.

Entering the building, they bumped past Niall Graham, muscling their way inside without a cursory remark. They streamed into the building as Niall who was pushed against the doorjamb glared back. They entered then headed toward the food line and lunch.

He watched them join the line then stepped away to cross the tarmac to the offices that were theirs, the command team for the Autobot-N.E.S.T Strike Force. Entering the cooler building from the humid and heated outdoors, he spotted Lennox and signaled for him to come into Epps' office where the Sargent was working on paperwork, always and ever infernal paperwork.

Will popped in to sit in the dispersal range of the desk fan. "What's up, Niall?" He tensed. "Not another Autobot thing...?"

"No," Niall said with a frown. "It's worse. I just saw a team of hired slime from Intel-Martin elbow their way into the mess hall."

The two Americans looked at each other and without a beat spoke together: "Oh shit."

=0=Inside the mess hall

They sat together eating their food. Around them were the usual types, soldiers, sailors, airmen and women. They noted the women, checking out the local talent. They were going to be here for some time having been assigned by their boss, Bill Nast himself to accompany Jason Daniels to his posting here.

They were all former military but had left it for varying reasons to take high pay and less ethical adventures with Intel-Martin, the largest and most controversial ‘private army-for-hire’ in the world. They had a very long trail of murder, sexual misconduct and physical intimidation to their company name.

No one would be happy to see them here.

“Did you see the cars?” Lawrence Dobbs asked.

Carlos Ortega nodded. “Sweet rides. I suppose they’re all aliens.”

“Probably,” Lawrence said. “I’m going over to look when I’m done here.”

They chatted, ate and watched the locals.

The locals ate, chatted and ignored them.

-0-On the tarmac a joor (hour) later

Bluestreak was walking to the firing range, his limp nearly gone. It was very hot and most of the humans were not out and about, preferring early morning or later evening when the heat coupled with humidity was bearable. He walked along thinking about Sunstreaker and their evening with Sideswipe, Hound and Trailbreaker. It would be a welcoming party for the big mech who’d made it finally here to the literally delirious delight of Hound.

The activity would be one of the first parties they’d actually planned, not counting the spontaneous ones that burst into flames whenever someone provided the spark of an arrival or a besting of some human of dubious quality. Fire pits at the ocean side were popular and they were already collecting drift wood for the evening since Hound would be out of Med Bay and everyone would be there, he thought, in his continuous stream of consciousness, perhaps even Prowl and Prime and maybe even Ratchet would come for a while-

**"Hey!"**

A voice stopped the flow of words through his processor as Bluestreak slowed to stare around himself. Then he looked down and noticed new organics. They were lounging on deck chairs at the transient officers barracks, some of them stripped down to their skivvies. All of them wore dark glasses.

"I said **'hey'!** " a human male said sitting forward in his chair. He then stood. He stared at Bluestreak then looked the others, laughing as he said something softly.

Bluestreak instantly didn't like them, so he moved forward, ignoring the little insect voices of the tiny figures sitting on their patio. Their barracks was on the way to the firing range and he was determined not to have a bad time with organics. Prowl wanted it so and so did Prime. He wasn't going to be the one who had The Incident that they were warned against. It would especially be a bad event after the almost train wreck of Sunstreaker and Johnson/Hedges, a pair that were preparing to cause trouble back in their home land or so he thought he’d heard in the Rec Room one morning.

The insect voices continued but Bluestreak didn't listen. He walked onward finding the firing range empty as he believed it would be. Unsubbing his rifle, checking every aspect of it, he took his stance and began to sight the scope on a number of different things including skeet-like targets that flew up at an astonishing rate. Behind him, a roaring noise broke his concentration so he looked down.

An organic, the one who called to him was sitting on a small off road machine the organics called a four wheeler. He considered the tiny machine and its lack of sentience. Then he looked at the human and two others sitting on the back of it with cans of something in their hands. He decided that he wouldn't let them know he understood their languages.

Being an inoffensive individual, he didn't understand the aggression of stupid people so he decided to listen without engagement. Maybe he would understand doing so if he’d violated even obliviously some sort of taboo to invite this attention.

**"Hey! I'm talking to you!"**

Blue continued working with his scope ignoring the humans below. The sun was hot and he felt good, the energy absorption meters in his processor moving to near capacity from the sunlight his receptors were collecting. His limbs were healed and the pains were mostly a memory. The only aches he had were the welcomed kind from his exertions with Sunstreaker the night before.

He grinned as he considered the big Lambo who’d stuck up for him so fiercely at the enlisted man's barracks. He knew that Sunny loved him though it was hard for him to say. But he showed it all the time with touches, whispers and protection. The last thing he wanted to do was cause a reason for Sunny's anger so he considered leaving now.

 **"Hey, robot! I'm talking to you!"** the man persisted. **"Look down here and talk to me!"**

Bluestreak looked down with dislike clear on his face. "I'm shooting. Go away," he said as he turned back to fire.

The human stepped off the four wheeler and walked to the firing line to look up at Bluestreak. Then he pulled his pistol and pointed it up at the Autobot.

Bluestreak seeing the pistol flash in the light looked down at the man holding the gun. He glanced at the others who were sitting with sudden silence, watching intently the scene.

Then one of them thought better, perhaps noticing the size of Bluestreak's rifle. "Todd. Let's go."

'Todd' looked at them with a smirk. "You aren't afraid of a little old robot are you?" he asked.

"That isn't a little robot," the man countered. "Come on. Let's go get some beer."

Todd looked at them then back at Bluestreak. He pointed the gun back up looking as if he were preparing a shot.

Bluestreak who moved on instinct turned slightly, then focused his rifle on the human.

The human had the grace to freeze, the size of the bore of the rifle pointing directly into his face was bigger than his head and filled the visual field of his face. He lowered his gun slowly, his demeanor shifting to calmness and sobriety. "Hey, I'm just joking. Can't you take a joke?" he asked.

Bluestreak who was shocked by the human's move looked down his sight into the face of Todd. "No," he said quietly, then he moved away from the men, his rifle still on them, his back never turned. When he’d backed away enough he walked away, subbing his rifle as he left.

The men watching him go relaxed at last then looked at each other with gathering disgust.

"Great job, Todd, you ass hat."

"Blow me, Steve," Todd said moving to sit back on the four wheeler. "So that robot can't take a joke. We'll see," he said gunning the vehicle. They rode off in a haze of dust for the Transient Officer's Quarters and a beer driven afternoon of poker and bullshit.

-0-Med Bay, late that night

Ratchet sat on a chair next to Ironhide, the big mech's arm a pillow for the medic's head as he kept vigil. He went to their quarters but it was curiously devoid of warmth and personality. Coming back, nodding to the night medic, he pulled up a chair and sat as memories of their life together came one after another to his processor. The endless fun, the suffering and separations, it all came. Ratchet was surprised as he thought back at the lack of rancor they had together in a life spanning so many vorns.

They were compatible to a degree he hadn't realized until now. They were friends, lovers and comrades. They were Autobots, soldiers and he was a diplomat, the official Autobot diplomat and negotiator.

Each of them were formidable alone but together they were never defeated. It had almost happened now but Ironhide had stuck around, almost as if afraid to leave Ratchet behind. At least that's what Ratchet settled upon.

Now all it took was the stabilization of Ironhide's spark. The meter was already at 54%. Though that number was not the 98% Ratchet needed, it was a good one. For this number was Ironhide doing the work, not the machine. All they had to do was wait and Ironhide would be back where he belonged, with the Autobots, with Prime and with his 'bestest old yellow aft mech in the whole fraggin' galaxy'.

Ratchet.

He shuttered his optics to rest as his sensors focused on the big silent mech beside him.

  
  


Chapter 29

  
  


-0-Med Bay before first shift

Ratchet felt a movement as an alert timer in his processor went off pulling him from an uncomfortable recharge almost faster than his hardware would allow. He sat up immediately, swatting at his face as if shooing flies. Then he stood swiftly to stared around in frightened disarray in his confusion before glancing down at Ironhide. Every part of his body was stiff and sore, his helm ached and he was exhausted. But he had felt a movement.

Actually, that wasn't true.

The internal alert timer he set was synced with the equipment monitoring Ironhide and the moment the big mech reached 85% or above on the spark monitor a series of alarms were tripped, messages sent, wires crossed, hot air balloons launched and the 'bestest yellow-aft mech in the entire fraggin' galaxy' was awake (relatively), alert (debatably) and focused entirely (indubitably) on the mech lying on the berth. Ratchet watched and waited as the movement registered prior was internal from Ironhide rather than external. But the wakening would come. Ratchet knew from a lifetime of work that if they got this far they stayed.

Then. It. Happened.

"Hey."

Ratchet stared at Ironhide's blue optics, his wretchedness falling away as that single syllable delivered in a mud colored voice retrieved his spark from the Pit where it had been circling at high speed for joors. He stepped forward quietly, as if to make a sound would shatter his delicate tenuous grasp of reality, then leaned down to stare intently. Ironhide had moved and he spoke. A servo moved, an arm flexed as Ratchet took Ironhide's hand, gripping it gently as he gazed into his optics. "Hey," Ratchet replied. "You planning on recharging all day?"

"Most likely," Ironhide said tiredly.

"Poor example of a Chaos Bringer for the younglings."

He grinned slightly, his optical shine drooping from fatigue. "I saw you."

"You did?" Ratchet asked, content to talk to him about anything including the odd disjointed remark.

"I saw you welding the chamber back together," he whispered.

Ratchet stared at him considering his remarks and a lifetime of hearing such things a time or two from mechs brought back from the edge of no return. "What did you see?" Ratchet said kissing Ironhide's servo.

"I saw you suffer," Ironhide said. "I was standing beside you the whole time." With that, he off-lined his optics and slipped back into recharge again.

Ratchet checked the dials, noting 92% already on the monitor. He considered Ironhide and his remarks, his quiet expression in recharge, then he gently lay the big mech's arm down. Leaning down, kissing him gently on the lips he walked slowly to his office. He shut the door, sat down wearily in his chair, then folded his arms and wept.

-0-At the offices of the Autobot-N.E.S.T Strike Force

Will Lennox got off the phone from friends he knew in the armies of other countries who had served in areas that Intel-Martin had worked, a couple who were in the State Department and a guy he knew in Pittsburgh who could get you anything/anyone/anywhere for the right price. All of them agreed.

They were fucked.

He sat back and threw a pencil on his desk as he put his feet up. He considered their problem. Niall had the same luck calling the UK and a friend he had in the Foreign Legion. Epps who had contacts in the private army business having received recruiting offers from any number including Intel-Martin searched and found out that the story they were piecing together probably spelled one thing: There was going to be The Incident they all dreaded because, first of all, they had no control over these guys. This group of slaggers were overpaid losers and sometimes criminals had **ZERO** respect for the regular military and they were here for a reason that no one could figure it out.

They could themselves but it was purely speculation.

Niall sighed and sat back, flexing his shoulder in tension. "I want to know what a bureaucrat needs with nine, count them nine armed men. It doesn't make sense."

"Maybe they feel they need to arm after Sunstreaker," Epps said. "I heard somewhere that Johnson and Hedges are making waves. Appears they were involved or at least their families were with militias."

"Homegrown frat boys with guns and beat up pickup trucks?" Will asked with a grin. "I grew up with the type … ultra macho and full of shit. Compare our rides with theirs, weekend warriors. 'Don't tread on me' bullshitters." He sighed as he leaned forward. "We need to bring this up with Optimus at the weekly. And we need to keep our eyes peeled. They might trigger a shooting."

"The pop guns I've seen won't hurt the Autobots but the hardware the bots have? We won't find a stain if they provoke a shooting and it **will** be provoked. All these years with no incidents and if one happens now it's provoked. Are we all in agreement?" Epps asked, his pointed look passing from one to the other.

They grinned.

" **Hell yeah!** Hoo-ah," Lennox said with a grin.

"What he said," Niall replied with a chuckle.

Epps leaned back in his chair. "Daniels has some kind of plan here and his connections with his family and their money makes him highly dangerous. We forget that at our own peril."

"There's always an 'accident' at the beach. Though … I've yet to see Daniels outside of a suit. I imagine he swims and takes a bath in a three piece," Niall said with a grin. "He's very British upper class that way."

"He wishes," Lennox said with a grin. "Come on. Let's see if they have attitude at lunch."

The three stood up and walked to the door, exiting into the heat and sunlight of another bright day on Diego Garcia. There were crowds everywhere, some of them doing jobs or going to and from them. But most were watching the Embassy and the Autobots. Some of them were sunning themselves, absorbing solar energy but mostly, they were there to be admired.

They were.

Crowds stood around them, the more adventurous leaning in to chat. The bots allowed it because they were mostly friendly, some were working to learn about humans and they liked the praise of their amazing formats.

Any number of them felt the ego buzz of being admired.

The stroll to the mess hall was made through crowds of sailors, marines, civilians, air force personnel and soldiers. This was a fully functioning base on the front lines of defense so it was busy and active on both land, air and sea. They entered the big building which was filling up with those who were here to partake in lunch. They could have gone to the officer's club but for Epps and solidarity was their code.

Picking up a tray, they joined the line. Sitting nearby were half the mercs while the others were in front of the line making their way forward.

Lennox watched them, memorizing their features and attributes. It paid to know your enemies. They got their food, watched as the mercs congregated, then sat down nearby. The mercs watched them even as they were watched.

The room was filled with conversations with different groups from different countries eating together. It was a base that catered to all manner of options. Most got along beautifully.

Sitting nearby, the women favored by the bots laughed as they chatted. The mercs were watching them, all of the five highly attractive friendly women. Then one of them rose to walk to where Lennox, Epps and Graham sat. Pulling a chair, he joined them.

-0-Bluestreak and Sunstreaker

Sunstreaker skated down the trail to the beach with Bluestreak's servo in his hand. The youngling gunner followed quickly to keep up. The bonfire they were lighting to celebrate the return to the fold of Trailbreaker was going to be a blowout. Wheeljack's stash had been 'mysteriously' appropriated and even though they only dared to take about four bottles it would be a nice buzz for one and all.

Unless everyone came.

Then some would do without, the 'freeloading slaggers'.

"But you **took** the bottles without asking, Sunny. How can someone else drinking them be freeloading when you're a thief?" Bluestreak asked as he grinned at Sunny.

Sunny grinned back, glancing over his shoulder as he felt the bottles tinkling against each other in his hold/carrier space. "Shhh," he said pausing to kiss Bluestreak hard on the lips. They continued onward moving toward the noise of conversation and Blaster's musical contribution as the sun began to descend into the sea beyond.

-0-Lunch earlier

Sam Hedges sat down across from Lennox and Epps.

Graham who sat next to him paused his lunch to look at the merc. "Can we do something for you?" he asked, noting that a number of others around the room had turned to watch the show.

No one liked the mercs.

"I was wondering if you could introduce us to some of the bots," Sam said. He didn't look nervous. He was relaxed and calm in his affect. It was disturbing.

"Why?" Epps asked. "You hate them."

"I don't. I'm here to do a job. What I’d love to do is take a spin. If you introduce me, I can ask," Sam said. "I never saw so many beautiful cars in one place before."

Lennox considered that. "I could. I can't guarantee that they would agree."

Sam nodded. "Understood. Thanks," he said as he rose. He walked back, sat down and began to eat again.

The other mechs stared at Lennox, then Hedges. Then they began to eat again.

"Are you?" Graham asked with a slight smirk.

Lennox looked at him, then grinned. "Ask what?"

-0-At the Transient Officer's Barracks later that evening

They sat on the patio enjoying the cooler temperature as they talked while drinking. Videos and games aside, there was little else for men such as themselves to do in an island base such as Diego Garcia. Todd sat with his feet up on a deck chair knocking back his third beer since dinner. "What the hell are they doing out there?"

Steve, himself eating a sandwich. He shrugged. "Who cares? They're robots. They could be building Buicks for all I care."

Todd snorted with amusement as two others, Laurence and Tony, laughed. They’d all been drinking for some time, poker long since past and they were bored. They all knew they would be but the pay was good and the atmosphere was currently devoid of warring factions.

Then again, the night was young, Todd thought. He rose to toss his empty beer can into the trash can nearby. Strapping on his pistol, putting on his Intel-Martin baseball cap, he walked toward the four wheeler at the edge of the lawn.

"Where you going?" Steve asked, his sandwich halfway to his mouth.

 **"To take a piss!"** Todd said revving the machine loudly to peel out as gravel flew around him. He quickly disappeared down the road.

Steve watched him go with a frown. He was driving toward the noise and music on the beach. He shook his head in disgust. "You could take a piss right here, you dumb ass. We have trees enough for everyone." He sighed then continued his sandwich.

-0-Med Bay

Ratchet lay on a med berth deep in recharge. He’d come together in his office, walking out on the way to the wash racks. Standing under the steady stream of warm water, he had felt himself pulling together as a hunger in his tanks could be felt for the first time since Denver. He’d washed, energized then walked back to the Med Bay as tired as before but without the dread and doom that had buried itself deeply in his spark.

Prowl and Prime were there talking softly to Ironhide who was assuring them both that he would be on his peds in no time. Prime who was ecstatic and relieved held Ironhide's servo. He grinned at the steady patter of slag Ironhide was dishing.

They talked together, four old friends of many a campaign, then Prime and Prowl left, leaving Ratchet and Ironhide alone in the dimmed lights of the Med Bay.

-0-On the way to the beach

Todd rode the four wheeler across the tarmac avoiding the runways where big planes were parked. For all he knew, they could all be robots and some of them were as they recharged outside the hangars that were theirs, enjoying the warm air and the beautiful sky overhead.

He pushed onward heading toward the light of a fire, its sparks flying upward into the darkness overhead. The sound of laughter and talk that he could hear become louder and louder as he got closer was just electronic noise to him.

Sitting on the sand with Hound leaning against his shoulder and a bottle in his servo, Trailbreaker laughed at a pantomime that Sideswipe was doing of Ironhide and a mission they’d gone on the year before. He had enjoyed himself, cutting a Decepticon in half with his gigantic swords.

Sunstreaker who was jealous of the fight he hadn’t been there to partake in hooted at his brother. Bluestreak who was sitting behind him with his arms around Sunny's shoulders laughed with delight.

It was all good.

The bottles were passed as jokes flowed. The Milky Way overhead was moving slowly across the softly velvet darkened sky. Toward that happiness, that gathering of a wounded tribe together in a small out-of-the-way place in a very big universe, a four wheeler was headed. That four wheeler was driven by a man who had had opportunity all his life, from good schools to good jobs. He had never applied himself at anything, taking whatever he was handed by his older brother who was currently an executive in Intel-Martin.

He’d never been hungry and alone, pinned down in a battle against overwhelming odds against truly ruthless adversaries that not only wanted to kill you, but obliterate every trace that you ever existed. He’d never seen his country fall to enemies, his people killed and scattered. He’d never been deprived and as a consequence he had no idea of the beings he was rushing toward gun at hip and attitude flying high.

He’d never been on the other side of the looking-glass watching others plunder his home and his culture, tearing apart everything that mattered and counted. He was an over paid overindulged dilettante from an over indulged culture and country, someone who’d never had to face himself and see where the bullshit ended and the truth began.

He was going to find out now.

-0-Nearing the beach party

He stopped his engine, shutting off the machine as he stared into the darkness toward a flickering light and voices. Stepping off with his gun in hand, he crept forward toward the light and bots dancing.

Dancing robots.

Fuck, he thought as he spied two or three couples swaying to a slow tune. Bending low, he crept closer and just as he was about to reach the safety of trees a huge hand gripped his body to yank him off of his feet.

He didn't even have time to scream.

  
  


** Chapter 30 **

  
  


-0-On a beach in the middle of the Indian Ocean

"What do ya think?"

"I think you need to pass that bottle."

(Pass. Swig. Pass back.)

"Did that clear the glitch? I was asking your opinion."

"You were. You're good that way."

Springer smirked as he passed the bottle back to Kup, the oldest mech since before the time of Unicron taking it with gusto.

He wiped the lip then took a deep swig. He grimaced then grinned, proffering it to the squirming organic that was currently residing underneath his ped. "Want some, insect?"

Springer chuckled as he gazed at the organic who was pinned, pale and panicked.

Humans and their words.

He looked at Kup who to him was the toughest, oldest, most muley mech he’d ever met. "You know, you might be crushing him. He may be an insect but I don't think he has an exoskeleton."

Kup winked then glanced down. "Let's see where his skeleton is. Maybe you peel them like a … what do they call it? That yellow thing they like to eat ..."

"Banana?" Springer said sipping Wheeljack's rot gut again.

"Yeah, a banama," Kup said looking at Todd with his googly eyes and his battered old helm. "Peel 'em like a banama."

Springer grinned as he leaned back, the sandy bank holding him gently as he watched the sky. "You know, it's been a long time since I had fried food. Do you suppose this organic tastes good fried or should we spit him on a stick and give him to the younglings over there?" he asked nodding toward the party and the mechs having a good time nearby oblivious to the fact that Springer and Kup were watching over them at Prime's request.

"I don't know. Boil him in oil. We can drink the oil and pick out the bad stuff," Kup said leaning back himself. "I personally prefer the oil."

"High grade," Springer said taking a swig. "I think Wheeljack did a good job with this batch. Maybe if we give him this insect he can use it as an additive, sort of like spice or something. Age it to a fine tang."

Kup snorted. "That might be good but I think Prime would have something to say about it. I guess this little hero needs to go in the brig for the night. I don't think I want to comm Prime about it."

"He **did** give us discretion. 'One Riot," Springer began.

 **"ONE WRECKER! WRECK 'N RULE!"** Kup shouted as he waved the bottle in the air. He raised his leg so Springer could pull Todd away before Kup's heavy ped came back down.

Todd hanging in Springer's grasp looked at the place he’d been pressed into and sobered up completely. Without one robot saving him from the other, he’d be goo.

"I'm going to can this one. You keep watch and I'll be right back," Springer said handing Kup the bottle. "Don't drink it all, old mech, or I'll have to smack your old aft."

Kup smiled as he looked at the human hanging in Springer's servo like a rag doll. "Cheerio, insect," he said raising the bottle to his lips.

Springer smirked and chortled as he rose up to go. He walked back up the trail pausing before the four wheeler. Looking at it then Todd, he reached out to put his ped down smashing it flat into the sand it was parked on. He twisted his ped making sure it was broken, then raised Todd up to eye level. "Get something straight, **Todd**. We know who and what you are and we're prepared. Don't **ever** try to bother our kids or anyone else among our own kind again. I would **hate** to accidentally step on you. Getting slag off my peds would be a bad idea for me. I don't have to tell you how it would be for you would I?"

Todd who was pale as a sheet, swaying in the grasp of his worst nightmare, nodded.

"Do you have a vocal processor or are you a slagger giving me a hard time?"

"What?" Todd asked paling even more.

"Speak, dog," he said bringing Todd closer still. His optics were hard and his voice edgy, deliberately so.

"I understand," Todd said shaking his head. "I understand you. I do."

Springer quashed a smirk then walked onward toward the hangar holding Todd like any other object that he used, down by his side grasped only tightly enough to keep from dropping him. He walked into the Rec Room in the big hangar, nodding to bemused mechs who were sitting around talking as they played games of chance.

Jazz who was sitting with Mirage smiled. "What ya got there, Springer?"

"A little dumb aft. Wanted to bring a gun to the dance," Springer said holding up the handgun that Todd had brought in his other servo. "Cute, huh? If I were bonded I'd make it into a necklace."

Jazz laughed aloud. "I'm not sure it would suit Optimus." They all guffawed, then Jazz reached to pick up the tiny gun turning it this way and that in his digits. He turned in his chair to stare at the terrified human with his optical visor which glowed in the muted light of evening in the Rec Room. "You **do** know don’t ya that these little popguns can't hurt our **feelings** let alone our hide, boy?"

Todd nodded as tears pooled in his eyes. "Yes, sir."

"Ah, polite little thing isn't he," Mirage said with his contempt barely in check. "Brig perchance?"

"Yep," Springer said with a big grin on his face.

"Come back and have a game with us," Mirage said. "The soldiers taught us a new one, 'Battleship'."

"Sounds great but I left Kup at the party with a bottle and he's on guard duty."

"Prime?" Jazz mentioned.

Springer chuckled. He nodded. "That's why he's Prime. He can see the future and, **friends** ," Springer said holding the human up as he enjoyed his extreme discomfort. "The future is Todd."

They laughed together, then Springer continued onward walking to the second level where Red Alert sat on duty watching monitors as he guarded and manned the Brig during night shift. He jumped up delighted to have a prisoner to take care of, so Springer left Todd in good hands. On the way back he was irritated and it showed.

Jazz called out. **"Springer!** You look bothered."

Springer slowing as he passed, looked at Jazz with disgust, shaking his servo as he did. "Todd leaked."

Laughter followed him out of the Rec Room as Springer made his way back to guard duty and Kup.

-0-The next day

Epps came into Med Bay, the daily visit to Ironhide a ritual he intended to keep until the big mech was on his peds once more. Looking around, content to see only one patient, he walked up to gaze at Ironhide. "Hey? Hide? You awake yet?"

A dark helm turned, an optic ticked open and a nod indicated that he was online once more. "Hey, Epps."

"Hey, yourself," Epps said grinning at the big hostage to Ratchet's fortune. "You scared everyone. You gotta duck faster, man."

Ironhide turned his head to look at Epps, considering the small soldier for whom he had huge regard. "Ducking is relative."

"Getting slagged is, too," Epps replied as he climbed onto a small stool to stand closer to the big mech. He noted the device was gone on his chest, most of the cords as well and he was spotted with silver metallic plates over his wounds. "You look good with the bling but when are you getting your armor back? You have a style to uphold, you know."

Ironhide grinned in spite of himself. "Wheeljack and Perceptor are smelting the old stuff and will remake the new."

"We gathered it all up when they moved you off the street. All of Ratchet's tools and all."

He nodded as he looked at Epps. "You’ll tell me what happened one of these orns. I want to know about Ratchet as well."

Epps nodded. "You'd be real proud of Ratchet, Hide."

"I am," he said turning to gaze at the ceiling. "What else do I need to know?"

"Hound got hit and is fine now. Had a party last night for Trailbreaker."

"He's back?" Ironhide asked turning his big helm to gaze at Epps.

"Yeah. Came the same day as the Aerialbots, the day of the mission."

"Good. Hound missed him. They're bonded."

"I didn't know that," Epps said. "Good to know."

"I heard that a slagger got put in the brig last night when they tried to bring a gun to the youngling's party."

"Which slagger?" Epps asked hearing of it for the first time.

"Some slagger among the new humans," Ironhide said. "Ratchet knows more. He isn't telling. Go to the brig and find out. Come back and tell me. I hate not knowing. I'm the security specialist, after all."

"I thought you were the weapons specialist," Epps said smiling at the big galoot and his unintentional ability to be funny all the time.

"I'm versatile. Can do a lot. Ask Ratchet." He grinned at Epps. "Come back and tell me. Ratchet wants me to rest but I'm going off my processor. Don't tell Ratchet."

"Don't tell Ratchet what?" A tall yellow-aft medico came around the corner and stopped, putting his servos on his hip assemblies to glare at Ironhide with intensity. "You aren't moving, Ironhide, if I have to tie you down."

"Sounds good," Ironhide said, his muddy voice comical in the extreme.

"Too much information," Epps said climbing down from the stool. He grinned at Ratchet. "You done good. It’d be a terrible world with an Ironhide-shaped hole in it."

Ratchet nodded. "I know. Who would I have to kick around?"

"Damned straight," Ironhide said proudly.

-0-Brig

Epps stood in front of the gigantic brig cell looking at the occupant, a man who had seen the elephant.

Todd looked up gasping with surprise and relief. Rising to his feet, he ran forward stopping short of the electrified beams that comprised bars. **"Hey, get me out of here! I've been kidnapped by** **robots!"**

"I hear you brought a gun to the party they were having. Didn't anyone tell you that they carry weapons on their bodies even when they **sleep**?" Epps asked as anger rose in his voice. As he fumed the sound of heavy footsteps was heard. Epps turned to look, then waved to the giant who was walking toward him.

Optimus Prime stopped to stare at the tiny being who was standing in his brig. "Well, it appears that someone has been naughty," he said with a big grin on his face.

Epps grinned. "Ain't getting anything but coal for Christmas, this dumb ass."

Optimus grinned.

So did Prowl who was standing behind him ready to witness the processing of the first non Autobot prisoner in the Autobot brig in the history of their collaboration.

/...Todd, the dumb ass was now a historical figure. Yes, like George Washington, Todd, the dumb ass will be long remembered in these parts for his contributions to inter species amity... not .../ Epps thought with a grin.

What Todd thought about his historic role wasn't remarked upon at the time.

Chapter 31

=0=Outside the Autobot HQ, a couple of days later

"E-4."

"Miss."

[Grin]

"D-7"

"Hit. Frag."

Epps glanced up at Ironhide who was frowning at his game. The big mech who was sitting on the big metal bench out in front of Autobot HQ, his body absorbing solar energy through the sensors hidden in his dermal layers was losing to him. He’d been released to limited activity and so he sat. They were playing Battleship.

Epps had his laptop and Ironhide had an entertainment-designated datapad.

Ironhide was losing this round.

Ironhide didn't like to lose.

At anything.

"You're losing, my brutha," Epps remarked with a snicker. "I guess you must be used to it. I hear that you're behind in the prank war you have going with Ratchet."

Blue optics glanced up measuring Epps. "Humph."

Epps snickered as he sat back in his lawn chair, the one he’d stolen from the officer's patio before sauntering over. "I hear that Ratchet’s kicking your ass so bad you'll be sitting on your shoulders pretty soon."

Ironhide grinned slightly, the visual appealing to his inner sparkling, then he glanced at Epps. "He just **thinks** he's winning. What he knows and I know is all I have to do is wait him out. When he gives, I win. I always do. Most of the time. Usually." He thought a moment. "Well, it works once in a while. Depends on the goal Ratchet’s working for."

Epps stared at him considering the possibilities of asking more questions. You never did get anywhere without going as his mom was wont to say. "What's the goal this time?" he asked with a big grin on his face.

Ironhide glanced up, pausing his strategic planning and considered Epps. He was a soldier and a straight up mech so he told him. "Ratchet wants a sparkling."

Epps considered that, knowing that 'sparkling' meant some kind of child. "A baby."

Ironhide considered that, knowing 'baby' meant some kind of sparkling. "Yep."

"How does that work? I mean, I don't want to pry but I was wondering … how does that work?"

Ironhide considered the question before speaking the coordinates upon what he assumed would be a direct hit on Epps' aircraft carrier and wondered what he could say. Could he tell about spark merging, about carrying and the separation process? Could he be eloquent enough to explain the life process of a Cybertronian and all the options that they had including the Well of Allsparks and the Creation Matrix? Did he have it in him to do it justice?

Nah.

"We merge our sparks and the energy surge makes a sparkling. The carrier carries it in their chest near their own spark until separation when its removed and placed in the first of what will grow to be new protoforms four times over their lifespan until adult. B-6."

Epps looked at him wondering what he just said, then looked down at his computer screen.

Direct hit.

"Shit."

Ironhide grinned.

=0=Ratchet

He stood in the doorway of Med Bay considering his next move. It had been a long time since they had 'quality time' between them or as Ironhide said just to goad him, "How about a frag, you good looking yellow-aft slagger?" Ratchet suppressed a grin. What a romantic he was, his Ironhide.

They had gone high and dry about sixty orns (days) give or take a **VORN!** and he was considering how long he would make Ironhide dance. Kinks had arisen. Two battles and a lack of follow up 'facing had been a violation of one of their most important rules, thus, a problem.

That had bothered him more than anything, breaking that hard and fast rule. It almost seemed to invite trouble and he would try to make sure it never happened again. Unless, of course, there was a really **really** good reason, the slagger.

He knew this war was one he wouldn't win on all his points and goals. If he had a chance to win a straight victory he would’ve by now. He knew it might end this way but one of the two goals he’d set himself was met. Ironhide told him without reservation that he would welcome a sparkling. That was a huge load off Ratchet's peds. He also told him the Pit would freeze over before he would be the carrier. That wasn't so good but totally expected from the beginning.

Ratchet sighed. "I guess its up to you, you yellow aft slagger, to do all the dirty work." With that, he went into Med Bay and began to plan his wind down strategy for the war.

=0=Ratchet and Ironhide, that evening

Ironhide sat on the berth legs crossed and his head thrown back as he leaned away, his servos behind him bracing his body. Sitting on his lap, his legs wrapped around Ironhide's great body, his gaze intent on Ironhide's neck, Ratchet also leaned forward. It was intense as Ironhide lowered his helm to gaze at Ratchet with a smoky expression.

Ratchet who was getting peeved at his underhanded antics tipped Ironhide's head back. "Sit still, old mech. You'll ruin my paint job."

Ironhide cycled air through his vents, The Sexy rising in his chassis at such close quarters. The war was on a limited truce at the moment as Ratchet attended to some basic 'household duties'.

"You aren't going around without the dermals painted, Ironhide. I don't want anyone to think that I let you out of here looking like a dumb ass. A reverse Dalmatian even."

. Access internet. Downloaded info.

Clue.

"You calling me a dog, Ratchet? In some cultures that's an insult."

"In my culture as I make it up everyday, going out looking like a clown is forbidden. Sit down here and let me paint the primer coat at least."

Ironhide passed up the table, the bench and went straight to the berth patting it with his big servo.

Ratchet smirking as he stood by the table stirring a paint pot with a specialized brush for painting dermal armor. "You can't 'face for a few more orns. I know. I know your doctor."

"Come on over here and play The Sexy Yellow Doctor and the Big Black Chaos Bringer with me, Ratchet. You know you want to."

Ratchet snickered then ambled over to kneel in front of him. He began to stroke on the black primer coat to a tiny dull gray bit of regenerated dermal plating on his thigh.

Ironhide moving his thighs apart grinned as he did, He leaned back on his servos to kibitz. "You know, the old critical energy port could use some dusting off. A little bit of servos on would be a nice healing touch, Doctor Ratchet."

Ratchet schooled his face to a concerned professional expression. "You're such a femme. By the way, what kind of sparkling do you want? Femme or mech?"

"Femmes are fine. Mechs are good. What about you? And have you given up your fantasy of me being a carrier?"

"There's only a truce, Ironhide. The war isn't over yet. The negotiations haven't even begun."

There was a comfortable pause.

"You really are a persistent mech, I'll hand it to you."

"Thank you," Ratchet said rising to stare down at him. "You’d go out like this without me. Honestly, you have an image in the army to uphold. You can't go out looking polka dotted."

. Access. Downloaded.

Clue.

"It could be worse."

"How?"

A moment of Deep Thought was had by a mad Satanic-looking polka-dot Kewpie doll.

"I don't know yet, Ratchet, but I know it could be."

"I have to get the ones on your neck."

He sat up and crossed his legs, patting his lap as his optic ridges waggled comically. "Sit here, ba-bee. Come sit on Papa's lap."

Ratchet snickered. "Hanging out with Epps is going to get you arrested some day," he said considering Ironhide's lap which looked inviting. He put the paint and brush down on the table, then moved on the berth to sit facing Ironhide, wrapping his legs around the big mech as he did. Settling in, he rested his servos on Ironhide's shoulders.

"Hello," Ironhide said with a sense of triumph in his voice. He tightened his grip around Ratchet's waist. "Gotcha, Ratchet."

Ratchet smiled as he enjoyed the moment with an intensity that was remarkable. He leaned in and kissed Ironhide, lingering on his lips a moment in flagrant breach of The Rules of Prank Warfare. "Don't forget to duck next time, Ironhide. You disappointed me this time."

Ironhide grinned, then his expression became serious almost as quickly. "You were amazing, I'm told."

"I'm sort of used to you inside and out."

"Yeah," Ironhide said kissing Ratchet softly. "I want to 'face ya, you yellow-aft miracle."

"Sweet talking won't paint your speckles any faster," Ratchet said rubbing his nose against Ironhide's.

"No," Ironhide agreed as he kissed Ratchet again.

Ratchet leaned back to grab the paint bottle to stir it for a moment. His optics were focused on the bottle as he spoke once more. "I love you, Ironhide, but if you do this again I will frag your aft myself."

"Deal," Ironhide said squeezing Ratchet. Ratchet didn't look at him for a moment and when he did Ironhide could see the pain and panic that had been Ratchet's life for the past few cycles. He squeezed Ratchet, then pulled him close to his chassis.

Ratchet lay his helm down on Ironhide's broad shoulder, his great warmth and strength comforting. They sat together a moment then Ratchet back sat up regarding Ironhide with a solemn gaze. "I would be unable to continue if you leave."

He nodded. "I know," Ironhide said softly. "I'd follow if you left me."

Ratchet slid his arms around Ironhide and held him, rubbing his cheek against his finial glyphs, the ones that proclaimed Ironhide as his own. Then he sat up and looked at Ironhide. "I have to get you back in shape but I can't make you too pretty. You're mine."

"Damned straight," Ironhide said with a smile.

=0=On the way to Med Bay

Three hours later, Ratchet was headed to Med Bay He was a storm cloud of ire and everyone who saw him glanced with fear and loathing at the smears of black primer coat paint all over his body front and back. From the mood Ratchet was in, they looked only as long as they dared before heading elsewhere quickly. Rounding the corner into Med Bay, glowering at First Aid as he did, he pressed onward toward the lab and its many solutions to a myriad of problems.

Sauntering along behind with a big grin on his face, Ironhide wandered into Med Bay, too.

First Aid caught in the Ironhide/Ratchet Vortex again wondered if he should stay or run. Instead, he glanced at Ironhide. "Your paint. You're painted again."

"Yep," Ironhide said as he walked to Ratchet's office to sit in his chair with a self-satisfied grin on his face.

"Ah," First Aid said dropping his datapad as he walked to the door. "If Ratchet needs me, I'm … uh, I'll be out."

Ironhide smirked as the younger mech fled. Then he wiped it off as Ratchet came out of the lab with rags in one hand and a bottle of paint remover in the other. He thrust them into Ironhide's servos and said, "You fragger. **You** get it off."

"It's only paint, Ratchet, a small price to pay for The Sexy and the Magnificence that is me," Ironhide said, grinning as Ratchet turned around to present his aft to him.

"You broke the rules of engagement, Ironhide. There are penalties for this," Ratchet said hiding his smirk from the big doofus behind him.

" **Hurt** me, Ratchet," he said with a chuckle. " **Hurt** me."

"Count on it," Ratchet said smiling to himself.

/... at least we 'faced after the battle … too bad about the paint though, you fragger .../

  
  


** Chapter 32 **

  
  


-0-Daily Senior Autobot Staff Meeting

^..^

:: indicates intercom and/or internal conversations

{ } indicates bots speaking Cybertronian languages to each otherwise

^..^

Ratchet sat at the conference table leaning on his elbows with a trace of black paint still here and there. The look on his face discouraged comments.

Ironhide sitting beside him with one servo gently rubbing Ratchet's back grinned like a self-satisfied bear.

Wheeljack with a perturbed expression on his own face sat across from them alongside his boon companion and fellow scientist, Perceptor.

Jazz chatted with Prowl who looked especially radiant this morning while Optimus Prime on an internal comm line conference call sat at the head of the table like the paternal figure that he was. He commed off then leaned forward to grin broadly at all of them, these who were his surrogate family and drinking buddies.

Internal speculation pinged around the table as all of the mechs present considered their CO and his second including Arcee who breezed in apologies flying to take her place as well.

Prowl looked beautiful.

Optimus looked immensely happy.

Hmm...

Prime dispensed the speculation right away when he told them that Prowl and he had bonded the night before. The congratulations could be heard down the corridor.

Ironhide who was grinning like a genitor slapped Optimus' shoulder. "Now you get to know what I've known for eons, you poor sad fragger."

Laughter erupted and finally, at last, they were back on task.

Prowl unaccustomed to being the focus of personal attention about his person pulled himself together and began the agenda points. First up, prisoners in the brig. Prowl presented the facts.

"Good thing you think ahead, Optimus," Ironhide said shaking his head with disgust. "I would’ve fragged him. Good thing you sent your first missus. Springer is a good hand."

The room erupted in laughter and hoots.

Ratchet shook his head. "I wouldn't have sent Kup. Great Grandpas oughta be in recharge that late at night."

More guffaws, even from Prowl.

"Do you suppose they will complain, the new humans that is?" Perceptor asked with a slight frown on his face.

Prime shrugged. "I do not know. I can imagine they will. I do not think they were sent here to become allies and friends. I feel something less savory." He glanced at Jazz. "Anything on this group yet?"

"Yes," Jazz said leaning forward. "Jason "Jase" Daniels is the grandson of the current United States Senate Majority Leader, William Daniels. He is not a friend of ours. His family is very prominent in conservative politics and they have a great influence in the neoconservative movement. To cut to the chase, they won't be allies. Apparently, Intel-Martin has financial interests in a number of war-related industries includin' munitions. Some of them, Altadyne and Paraception are the ones lobbyin' hard and fast in the government to get access to our technology."

Prime sat back considering that news. "They will not get it but continue."

"Ole Jase is a graduate of good schools, adept at makin' influential friends and isn't here for the good of the order. Nothin' he does is pointless. He’s here for the technology and I’d consider him a spy. Until the intel changes I wouldn't consider him otherwise."

Prime agreed. "The others?"

"They're long time employees of Intel-Martin, have been in and out of war zones all over the world providing protection to commercial and governmental interests and the like. They have a bad record, Optimus. Todd has against him several allegations of murder in Iraq, shootin' civilians for ‘fun’. There's drug and alcohol atrocities as well as allegations of abuse and forced prostitution among underage sparkling mechs and femmes floatin' around out there about Intel-Martin and these mercs."

They sat in silence a moment reflecting on the idea that Decepticons weren't just limited to Cybertron.

Then Prime leaned forward resting on his elbows, his digits laced together as he considered what he wanted done about all of this.. "I want them to be watched. I want to know if they snoop, if they chat and who with. I want them on someone's sensors at all times. They are forbidden to come here and I want it spread to the troops that I will personally intervene on their afts if they even so much as speak to these people. They already have shown a disposition to fight and make trouble. We will not be the ones who start anything. Get the word out." He sat back, his rage only slightly mollified. "What has Mirage been up to, Jazz?"

"He’s been listenin' in. They're pretty low brow and disgustin', Prime."

"Have him spend his time monitoring them. That is his main assignment and he can choose his times,” Prime said.

Jazz agreed. "I will."

It was silent a moment as they processed the information.

Then Arcee spoke up. "I'm sorry that I was late but I had a great conversation with an Air Force Sargent, one in traffic control. She's sympathetic to us especially since the new humans arrived and is open to being a help to us, especially in alerting us about civilian plots and plans."

Prime glanced at Arcee. "Tell her we are happy she is so kindly disposed but tell her that we do not want her to compromise her oath or her ethics. I do not want her to get into trouble and I do not want our allies, the soldiers, and the military to think that we are acting behind them to compromise their people."

Arcee nodded. "I'll make sure it's going to be 'innocent' between us... sort of a femme-to-femme thing." She smiled. "I don't expect any of you to understand." She winked at Ironhide, one of her best friends over the eons and a fellow pranker.

He grinned. "I don't understand **Ratchet**. **Femmes**? Oh, Primus..." he said shaking his head.

That brought a moment of teasing and chuckles, then Prowl continued. "The mystery of Barricade and Bumblebee is next. I have no ideas what led to that fortuitous circumstance. First Aid did all the proper diagnostics and scans. They didn't implant anything."

Ratchet agreed. "I went through the data ..." Then he halted a moment with a frown. "Just a moment please." He commed Med Bay internally. :Ratchet to Med Bay:

:Med Bay, First Aid:

:First Aid, where is Bumblebee? Did you discharge him?:

There was a moment of dead silence as he looked around. Then he was back.

:Uh, no.: .

There was another moment of dead silence as First Aid tried to calculate how mad Ratchet was going to be with him.

:Ratchet … there was so much chaos, I forgot he was here:

"Frag," Ratchet muttered. "Ratchet to Ops Center."

:Ops Center, Red Alert:

"Patch me through the entire Autobot comm system both audio and internal, Red."

Prime watched with a grin forming on his face, leaned back.

Ironhide who was still rubbing Ratchet's back moved his servo like he touched a hot stove. Grinning at Prime, he also leaned back to wait.

:You are go, Ratchet:

"Thanks, Red." Ratchet took a moment to gather his thoughts, then sat up straight, his expression one of intense aggravation. {I want your attention} he said in NeoCybex, their common language. {I'm giving Autobot Bumblebee one breem to materialize in the Conference Room off Ops Center or I'll personally dismantle his little carcass and make belt buckles out of him for the soldiers. Do I have to come and get you, Bumblebee? Don't make me come and get you. **GET YOUR AFT IN HERE! NOW!** Ratchet out}

All over the base, humans listened and wondered what the strange metallic sounds were. They knew someone was speaking their alien language so no one would know what was said but no one listening who wasn't a car understood it.

Sometimes, life on Diego Garcia passeth-ed understanding.

Like right now. Eth.

The halls of the Embassy reverberated with the Wrath of Hatchet as the internal comm lines of every Autobot in the solar system including Cosmos who was bringing the latest shipment of supplies from outside the orbit of Pluto heard it. They all cringed, then shook their heads in pity. Bee was done for they considered and a couple of them taking pity began to search for him.

"So while we're waiting for Bumblebee is there anything anyone can deduce from this strange occurrence?" Prime asked spreading his servos in a gesture of confusion himself.

"Barricade doesn't give up kills," Ironhide said. "This puzzles me. He said that Starscream wanted you to know that he was to hurt Bee and not kill him. He was to tell you about this. It's personal for Screamer and I don't know why it would be, although the little fragger **can** be annoying," he concluded with a smile.

Prime grinned. "We can not know until we see him. Both of them."

-0-Sunstreaker and Bluestreak, Sideswipe, Hound and Trailbreaker in the Rec Room goofing off

They listened and laughed as they sat around the Rec Room shooting the breeze. It was too hot to train and too hot to shoot, so they sat together talking about the last millennium or so to catch up. Sunstreaker listened to Ratchet remembering through a haze that Bumblebee had shown up at the party the night before/ He considered where he might be now. He rose as Blue caught his servo. "Where you going?" he asked.

"I have an idea where Bee is. I'm going to get him," Sunny said with a wink.

They watched him skate quickly out and across the tarmac. "Bee is done for if he doesn't get to that room," Hound said as he leaned against Trailbreaker's shoulder. "Ratchet will make canisters out of him."

"Don't worry," Bluestreak said sweetly. "Sunstreaker will find him."

And he did.

A pile of rubble that was called Bumblebee ...

"Bee?" he called having crossed the tarmac, jumped the electrical fence to land gracefully, then ripped down the beach to the place where the party took place. He looked around. The burned out fire pit, the depressions in the sand where they had sat and danced, it was all still there. So was a yellow aft covered with seaweed sprawled on the sand, obscured by a series of rocks and drift wood that had collected on him from the surf over the course of the night.

Grinning with amusement, Sunstreaker knelt to touch Bee's ped. He was still offline and over energized. Sunny rose and put his servos on his hip assemblies. He shook his head with a smile on his face. "Fraggin' mini-cons."

Then he had an idea.

-0-At Ops Center, the conference room

Just before one breem was over, Sunstreaker skated to a stop before the door of the conference room with Bumblebee slung over his shoulder. He tapped on it as Arcee got it, staring at him with surprise and amusement. Stepping back, she made room for him to enter and lay the mini-con on the table next to Ratchet who looked at him with a frown.

"He was still at the beach," Sunny said, his expression and optics as innocent as a newly separated sparkling. With a nod and a grin, he backed out to flee as fast as he could.

They stared after Sunstreaker, then all optics landed on Bumblebee. They then shifted to Ratchet who was still staring at Bumblebee with irritation.

"Ratchet, if you would do the honors," Prime asked as he suppressed his own grin.

He looked at Prime then shifted to subspace the antidote to overindulgent stupidity. He stuck it into Bee's neck none too gently as everyone present flinched in sympathy.

Bumblebee roused then sat up on the table to look around with a bleary optic. "Hi," he said to Prime, smiling until he looked up to see Ratchet standing over him, servos on hip assemblies and fire in both his optics. "Oh."

" **Oh, my aft!** **WHAT WERE YOU DOING AT A PARTY AND WHO LET YOU OUT!"**

Prime intervened assuring Ratchet that he could have the mini-con after the meeting so Ratchet sat down only partially placated, his optics fixed on Bumblebee who sat on the table with forbearing.

"Bumblebee, we need to know what happened between you and Barricade," Prime said.

Bee looked at his commander and father figure with a fearful optic. He spun around on the table, sliding off to take a seat on the other side away from Ratchet. "I was going to Denver to meet with Arcee to do the initial scouting. I believe I was followed from Sam's home by Barricade. He has a new alt vehicle mode and I didn't catch on. I think he also has a way to dampen his signature."

"Preceptor, I would like you and Wheeljack to explore that concept and let us know what you think. I know it is not a lot of information but if they have new technology that allows them to get close to us without detection, we need counter measures," Prime said.

The two agreed.

"Continue, Bumblebee."

"I picked up on him after we were 500 miles out from Denver and I couldn't shake him," Bee said. "He and I are matched pretty well. But he sent his blades after me when it looked like he wasn't going to catch up and I was leaking energon for miles. It was only a matter of time. I was so dizzy I finally slid off a bend in the road."

"He came down to talk to you," Ironhide said.

"He did and he kicked me a couple of times. He's still mad about the time I cleaned his processor when I first drove Sam around," Bee said grinning slightly at the memory of the first time he met the Allspark, Sam Witwicky. "He said that he was told not to kill me, just hurt me good. Then he said that I was to make sure that you knew that Starscream ordered it and to let you know and understand that," he said looking at Optimus with a quizzical look.

"He didn't saw anything else?" Wheeljack asked.

"No," Bumblebee said.

"Hmm. Well, you can go, Bumblebee," Prime said. "Go to Med Bay and stay there. You are not discharged until Ratchet says so," he said glancing at Ratchet who agreed. "We do not take chances with ourselves, Bumblebee. You need to follow procedures because they work to keep us all safe and functioning."

Bee nodded with a shamefaced expression on his face. "Yes, sir." He arose and walked around the end of the table pausing in front of the door as he looked at Prime. "I meant to get there. I truly meant to. I didn't want anyone to get wounded because I wasn't able to get there."

"We know, Bee," Prime said covering his mouth with his servo.

Bee then walked out as the door closed behind him. He didn't understand why the sound of intense laughter filled the conference room when he left. He just felt terrible so he went to Med Bay distraught. He climbed on a med berth and lay facing the wall, his back to the world.

Behind him he heard footsteps but he didn't care. Then a soft voice spoke to him. "Bumblebee?"

He looked over his shoulder at the discomfited face of First Aid.

"Bee? Why do you have glyphs on your aft?" First Aid asked.

For a moment, Bumblebee stared at him without comprehension. Then he hopped down to walk in a circle trying to look.

First Aid taking pity brought a mirror.

Then Bumblebee saw it.

"For a good time, comm Bumblebee. He won't remember nothing later on."

He looked up, the fuzz lifting on his processor. "Sunny," he said grimly.

Chapter 33

  
  


-0-Shortly after the Senior Autobot Staff Meeting

They drove across the tarmac toward the Embassy, two black SUVs, one following the other. The sun was hot and the Rec Room they were heading for was filled with off duty Autobots. The huge hangar that was the entrance of the Autobot HQ and Embassy had its doors opened wide during the day and most nights. The main floor was filled with tables and chairs, energon dispensers lined one wall while entertainment equipment filled another. Near the back of that open space was the main two lane road led to the living and storage areas on the floors below.

Mechs hung out there, this area that was their common room. It had once been the main room of a storehouse complex that’d held all of the thousands of things necessary to running a base like Diego. Some of the area was used as repair stations for vehicles and thus, a lot of elbow grease had gone into turning the place into a home. The know how of a species for creating spaces for their own use over millions of vorns on millions of places, both long and short term had been essential to creating what was essentially a consulate for the bots.

Ops Center and the Med Bay occupied the back part of the underground facility's first floor. The walls were thick and strong, the ceilings of the entire place never less eighteen feet nor more than thirty-nine feet high. Taller mechs like Optimus, Springer and Ironhide had to lower their helm in some places but those places were very few.

It was ideal.

The SUVs drove with confidence and were spotted about halfway across the tarmac. The Autobots inside, those lounging outside and in the doorway were already told that these humans were off limits. The Aerialbots even knew what Prime had ordered and that it would be a personal offense against his authority to do less than obey. No one wanted a dressing down from Prime, not even the Wreckers.

Springer who was sitting near the door as he played cards with the twins and Kup noticed them first. Rising to stare as they came closer, he considered the negative potential of the moment. They didn’t slow down and it appeared that they were going to drive right inside. He glanced at Jazz, himself rising to watch. "Better get Prime. I'll block their path."

Jazz nodded as the two mechs parted, each going their own way.

Springer walked calmly past tense mechs, all of them stilled by the effrontery of the humans and their lack of options about it. He stood at the doorway motioning the mechs outside to come in. They did, obeying the Wrecker who had been point man on the problem from klik one. He stood in the doorway, waiting calmly and when the SUVs kept driving, he stepped in their way causing them to pull up.

Everyone outside who were lounging around to watch caught the subtext and began to gather to watch as others joined them, some driving to go somewhere and others driving up to join them. A sizable group gathered past the demarcation lines of what was Autobot sovereign territory and the rest of the base. It got quiet right away.

Springer stared down at them, twenty-five plus feet of green and yellow ferocity, cool optics and a lifetime of hard fighting and play behind him. Springer was part of a tradition that kept Prime awake at night, the last go-to mech, the last line of defense, the enforcer. The Wreckers were legendary and two of the most renowned, Springer and Kup were here protecting the Autobots as they always had.

None of the humans in the cars knew that. They just saw a gigantic green and yellow robot towering over them, his big peds stepping up to block their path.

Jase Daniels considered this, then climbed out to look up. He wasn't afraid of Springer and didn't even bother to hide his contempt and anger. "Hey, we need to see your leader, Optimus."

Springer heard his impertinent remarks as his helm tilted slightly. He stared at the little organic, reading in his intuitive programming a deep abiding dislike for the man and all he stood for. "He's called Prime by the insects. Call him Prime, insect."

Daniels frowned slightly. The deep voice of the robot sounded surprisingly harsh for what he perceived to be a reasonable moment and request. Behind him, peering out of the vehicle with an indeterminate expression on his face, Todd watched warily. The night before had shaken his manhood but he was recovering as anger building up inside of him all night became more and more intense.

"You bringing him back?" Springer asked with a smirk as he glanced toward Todd. "We tossed out the trash. We don't want him back."

Sunstreaker and Sideswipe rolled up behind giving him back up, their seven foot swords slipping in and out of their sheaths as they stared at the humans with scary expressions on their faces.

Springer was aware of it and knew the twins wouldn't do anything that he didn't order. He wasn't afraid of their presence at this flash point moment. He knew their quality. Unlike, he thought, these little insects.

Their 'quality' was something less, indeed.

"Who? Todd?" Daniels asked as he glanced back to the SUV. He shook his head at Todd as an angry expression formed on his face. Todd slipped back inside the car and closed the door. Daniels turned back, looking up at Springer with gathering impatience. He was used to getting his way. That much was evident. But unfortunately for him, his kind of attitude and entitlement was something all of them knew too well and hated with a deep and abiding passion.

Typical high caste behavior, Springer considered.

"We wish to see the Prime. We would like you to move and let us in." His body language was tight, his tone short and his impatience visible.

"No can do," Springer said in a deceptively calm voice. His optics never left Daniels even as he was aware of the individuals in both SUVs. "This is diplomatic space and you can't come here unless you're invited."

"Then invite us. **Please,** " Daniels added as his irritation began to rise inside of him. It was an unaccustomed sense of frustration at being denied something he wanted that suffused him. This robotic fucker was going to be trouble, he considered.

Springer pretended to be thinking about it. Then he simply said, "Nope."

Snickers and laughter filled the hangar as the Autobots chuckled over the human's discomfiture. They’d gathered at the door, a row of massive mechs of all manner of shape and size. They were heavily armed, it seemed, all the time. Some of them had weapons that never disappeared while others made them appear out of thin air. He had no idea that they carried them here in more open display because some of them didn't feel welcome.

Force of habit.

Then Optimus Prime walked into the Rec Room moving through his troops toward the hangar door with a grim-faced Prowl and Ironhide in tow.

-0-In Med Bay

"It serves you right."

"I thought you were laughing at me when I said I was sorry."

Ratchet turned around to look at the forlorn youngling mini-con sitting on the med berth, his door wings drooping so low as to be flat on his back, his optics filling with coolant. Sometimes it was easy to forget he was a pugnacious kid, heavy emphasis on kid. Ratchet replayed the moment then shook his head. It would seem that they were. "We laughed at the **glyphs** , you little glitch, not your **efforts.** We **know** your worth, Bumblebee."

Bumblebee lowered his head as he rubbed his face with his servos.

Ratchet, his deeply hidden, deeply closeted but all encompassing good heartedness bubbled up in the well pit of aggravation called his spark He walked to Bee and embraced him. Bee sniffled, then hugged him back as Ratchet swayed and held him. It had been a long two days.

-0-At the hangar doors

Prime pinged Springer acknowledging his situation assessment and moved to stand with him, sensing on the edge of his processor that other vehicles were careening over, these filled with allies, Graham, Lennox and Epps. He looked at Daniels, taking in his slender form, glasses and oddly experience-free complexion. He didn't look like he had ever frowned let alone acquired lines denoting effort, failure and learning of life's great leveling lessons. Even Daniel's bow tie irked him. "You wished to speak with me."

Daniels looked upward and once more assimilated the discombobulating experience of talking to such a huge figure, one that was alien to their world and experience. This fucker was a truck and a being of some kind. It threw Daniels off trying to figure out what he was expected to deal with here. What wasn't hard for him was the contempt he felt having to deal with a truck like he was someone of consequence. "I do. We were driving over to speak to you before this person blocked us."

"Mech."

He looked at Springer who hadn’t stopped staring at him with contempt. The cold menace in Springer's voice was only matched by the cold menace in his optics. "What?" Daniels asked.

"Mech. I'm a mech, not a person."

Prime watched as Springer sparred, the human becoming flustered and irritated as he did. Good information, he thought. The ice cube could be thrown off his game.

"Whatever. I don't mean to be rude," Daniels began before Springer cut him off again.

"You were. Rude," he replied.

Prime waited, absorbing the human's personality and all his tells with the soft touch of Prowl's servo on his arm comforting him. On the other hand, Prowl's atomic fury about the human and his lack of respect was also comforting, oddly enough.

Daniels stared at Springer, then Prime with an expression of irritation. "Look, can we talk? I have some concerns about a couple of things and the treatment of one of my men was also a problem for me."

The Autobots were silent, their optics moving from Prime to Daniels to Springer and back to Prime. There was enough fire power in that room alone to wipe out Diego Garcia in nanokliks, yet the human pushed his aggressive personality, talking to their Prime in a wholly unsatisfactory manner. They were all to the last mech deeply offended and their ire was rising.

Prime was aware of it, too, even as they conveyed their contempt to Daniels in the Cybertronian way with silence and strong looks of disgust. It was doubtful that Daniels understood their actions and meaning.

"I will speak to you," Prime said. "Outside."

"I was thinking a chat in your office, just the two of us," Daniel said, smiling without the emotion touching his eyes.

"I was thinking we could stand outside. Prowl, Ironhide, Jazz and Springer could be with us. And those people," Prime said nodding in the direction of the hangars nearby. Daniels and his men glanced behind them, then turned around to watch as hummers drove swiftly up and stopped.

Behind them, pulling up and piling out, Epps, Lennox and Graham moved past the SUVs to stand next Prime and his people. "Optimus," Lennox said as he glanced at Daniels. He, Epps and Graham moved next to the mechs.

To go inside the Embassy.

That move was not lost on Daniels as he looked at the soldiers with a cold expression. "We don't need the soldiers." He looked at them with anger. "I’m the liaison to the Autobots. You have nothing to do with that and it wouldn't take a lot of effort to get command of the mission from you. It would do you well to understand the chain of command here."

Lennox bristled. "Try, Daniels. You're going to find we have friends, too."

Prime watched the exchange between the humans. He shook his head. "Those are the conditions of a meeting. Accept it or not. I am busy."

Daniels, outgunned and out numbered, agreed. "Very well." He walked back past his car slamming his hand down on the hood of the SUV that had brought him in deep irritation. He began to walk forward onto the tarmac, glancing over his shoulder as he did. "Tell me when," he said with a slight tone of condescension in his voice.

"When you get to New York," Lennox said loudly as he shook his head in disgust.

Prime looked down at him with a faint grin. "Why stop there?" he said.

Lennox grinned back.

Then Springer, Ironhide, Jazz, Prowl, Prime and their allies, Epps, Lennox and Graham stepped forward to meet their enemy together.

-0-Elsewhere

Arcee in alt robotic mode stood with her new friend, an Air Force Sargent by the name of Cindy Ducket. They’d met when Arcee was sunning herself near the enlisted men's barracks in her Cybertronian vehicle mode. Other human femmes were there and she’d felt a longing for female company. It had been a long time since she’d been with her team. They were still on their way in the vast universe. A number of the women seemed to want to come over but only one did, Cindy Ducket. They had talked, finding many points of commonality.

Arcee had also found out Cindy liked them, that she spent time watching all of them to understand who they were and that she thought Optimus Prime should run for President. Arcee also found out that the regular soldiers, sailors, airmen and women were fed up with the civilian liaisons and that the inclusion of the mercenaries into one of the best secured installations on the planet was not only deeply insulting but professionally disgusting. Some of the soldiers, sailors and air force personnel on the base had served with them in other theaters. They were loathed.

When Cindy would jog in the early morning before the sun was too hot, Arcee would go along with her, riding slowly along in alt robotic mode, her angular beauty interesting to the mechanic. They had much in common and Cindy shared her personal details as well. Her mechanic husband was stationed in California, not too far from Mission City oddly enough and her two children were dear to her heart.

They were simpatico.

By the end of the first week that Arcee was here on the Earth, Cindy had become more than a friend. She had become an ally. She had made the call to Epps, Lennox and Graham about Daniels' plan to speak with Optimus and they were there because of her.

It would not be the last one she made.

Chapter 34

John Fulton who was base commander for Diego Garcia got the call at his office. He had been base commander for seven years when the Autobots came to be based here and felt as at home with them as he did any soldier he knew. They were consummate professionals, somewhat eccentric and all around brilliant. Optimus Prime was a genuine friend to John Fulton and he returned the love.

He hurried through the office heading toward the door where his aide, Captain Marco Gonzales waited. “What’s going on?” he asked as they hurried through the door and to a waiting hummer.

“The mercs,” Marco said. “I was just told that a specialized SUV drove at high speed into Ironhide as he was crossing the yard to go to the NEST hangar. They collided because Ironhide couldn’t get away and its carnage.”

Fulton slowed with surprise, then ran to the hummer to jump in. Gonzales did as well then they roared off to the Embassy.

The base was alive with interested individuals driving, riding bikes or running toward the Embassy. On a good day, those who weren’t using the amenities of this, one of the most isolated places in the military, most could be found on the white sand beaches or at the perimeter of the Embassy watching the bots or if they were lucky riding around the town that facilitated life here inside a bot. Some of them, Jolt in particular, enjoyed jazzing around. The younger bots were sure bets for fun and games overall.

They screamed down the road, driving over crushed roads of white rock before spinning up onto the pavement of the base area just sort of the airfield where sagging wing tip to sagging wing tip sat the arsenal of the United States Air Force B-52 bombers. This was a top secret base that constituted an entire town for the 5,000 plus individuals who lived and worked here. Many were the civilians and military personnel who graced the place making it seem like a small town anywhere in the world.

The ocean fronted the atoll, one of 60 that were part of the complicated ecosystem here. This was a bird sanctuary and sea life refuge. Its delicate systems competed with the Navy who used this area for a refueling stop for its deep water access, something that allowed aircraft carriers and submarines to stop in and stay out on longer missions. There were gigantic ships stationed here as well filled with supplies and weapons against catastrophes and conflicts, some of which were longer and larger than the Empire State Building.

All of this was Fulton’s command.

That and the bots.

They drove up to the edge of what seemed like a shooting situation. The bots were circled around a downed Ironhide. Springer knelt with him holding his head as Ratchet feverishly worked to halt his wounds which looked worse he hoped than they might be from the amount of energon on the ground.

  
Prime was there and he looked lit. Fulton had seen him in all manner of degrees. Prime was the consummate professional and a genuine gentleman, among the few that Fulton could actually point toward. He never pressed the issue in an emotional manner but listened and worked out what would be the best course of action for the moment. It was obvious to Fulton that Prime had been at this profession they shared beyond his ability to imagine.

  
John Fulton respected and loved Optimus Prime.

  
He turned to the emergency workers watching as they hurried to a hulk of an SUV with the jaws of life, a device that pried open crushed metal so that victims could be extracted, them or their bodily parts. He felt anxiety as he watched his teams work their magic. As he did he also watched the bots withdraw into their embassy and close the doors behind them.

This was going to be bad.

Chapter 35

  
  


-0-Outside the Autobot Complex and Embassy

They gathered in the hangar watching through the open doors. On the runway, Silverbolt transformed into his alt robotic format to walk toward HQ, his expression one of distaste and anger. The shadow he cast was mind boggling as everyone turned to stare upward at the Autobot, marveling at his present format because he had never used it on Earth until now.

It would further boggle the human’s mind to know that as tall as he was, Silverbolt wasn’t considered anything more than average height for his type and model by Cybertronian standards.

Now Metroplex and the Supremes ...

Bending down on one knee, Silverbolt leaned toward Optimus. "Are you well? Do you need assistance, Prime, with this fool?" he asked.

Optimus shook his helm. "We have it under control, Silverbolt. It will be fine."

He glanced angrily at Daniels and his party, then rose to walk back to the runway before halting next to his parking space. Staring back at the group, he stood with arms folded over his chassis, his face cold and intense in expression as he watched them.

Daniels who was stunned by the figure of the gigantic Autobot looked at the assembled group. "What the fuck?" he said with a look of astonishment on his face.

Springer shook his head. “His name is Silverbolt."

Prime quashed a smile as he looked down at the human. "You wished to speak to me."

Daniels glanced upward to Prime, his train of thought lost for a moment. "If you think you can intimidate me with this show I want you to know I won't be."

The whole group stared at him without comment. He looked from one face to another, waiting for someone to speak or even challenge him. No one did. He had no idea that silence was the manner by which most Cybertronians communicated contempt for another. But he would know now.

"Is that all?" Prime asked quietly.

Daniels stared at him with a certain amount of confusion, then anger took over again. "No, actually. You threw a member of my party into your brig. I'd like an explanation."

Prime looked at Springer.

The big Wrecker glanced down, then knelt on one knee assembly. He leaned a little bit into Daniels' face. "Your boy brought a gun to a gathering of our youngling soldiers and was drunk out of his skull. He was going there to cause trouble. I was on guard duty and intercepted him. He ended up in our brig because he was trespassing, waving firearms and constituting a public nuisance." Springer stared at him a moment, his glare a clear indication of his contempt for the man. "Oh, and he’s ugly." Then he rose up and stepped back to stand beside Prime.

"That isn't what he told us. He said he was riding a four wheeler and was attacked. Then he was held under a robot foot for an hour or so before taken into that building to be humiliated in front of the robots that were sitting around. He was threatened and made to fear for his life. Then he was literally thrown into the brig."

Prime glanced at Springer whose optics had not left Daniels.

Springer, his voice cold and frightening, shook his head. "No. He lies."

"He's telling the truth." Daniels was adamant. He glared at all of them.

"He was armed, drunk and trespassing." Springer was adamant, too.

"He wasn't armed," Daniels said in reply.

Prime watched the exchange silently as the others carried the conversation. He noted that the man had little sense. Springer, one of the nicest mechs he knew but a terrible foe in combat was not causing any of the normal reactions in the man before them. He should’ve been terrified or at least intimidated. Few could stand up to a mech like Springer who was the chosen successor to Impactor to lead the Wreckers for a reason.

That wasn't a good thing. He was either beyond the hope of common sense, someone who could count on big power or thought he did, thereby believing he was invincible. Either way was trouble.

Springer reached into subspace, a sight that caused Daniels to step back in surprise. It always did someone saw it for the first time and this time was no exception. He held up a gun, a gun that was tiny in his gigantic servo, then he dropped the weapon which clattered onto the ground at Daniels' feet.

Daniels jumped back in surprise, staring at it with fear on his face. "What's this?" he asked looking up at Springer with an intensely angry expression on his face.

"The gun he never had," Springer said, his voice as calm as if he was giving a weather report. "It sure doesn't belong to any of us."

Snickers met that remark. They were watching with contempt and amusement, staring at Daniels with varying degrees of disgust.

Daniels to his own credit didn't waver. "You could’ve put that gun there," he said. "Or they did." He pointed to the three highly amused and highly pissed off soldiers watching the show next to Springer.

Lennox and the two soldiers groaned as they shook their heads.

"You hired dirt to work for you. **Dirt.** These mercs are the scum of the earth."Lennox glanced at the SUVs then leaned closer. **"SCUM!"** he yelled to the mercs inside them. He glanced at Daniels in a fury. "I can tell you right now, if they get out of line one time around us they're going to be in cuffs and out of here. You may be happy to associate with **scum** but we aren't. All of us, mech and human are professionals. We're a team and you'd do well to keep your **scum** on a short leash around here," the big human said.

"Are you threatening me? **Do you understand the tonnage of trouble I can bring down on your heads?!** " Daniels asked as he moved closer to Lennox.

Lennox who became enraged at the aggressive doofus moved toward Daniels but Springer's hand ended that confrontation.

He looked at Lennox with a grin. "Don't waste your time." He glanced at Daniels and the mercs. “Oh, by the way. Nothing that has happened here, happened here.” He stood, then glanced around at the mechs. “Right?”

They nodded as some of them chuckled.

“What might you be talking about?” Sideswipe asked with a smirk of contempt toward the humans.

"Mr. Daniels," Prime said as he moved forward, then knelt on one knee. He brought his helm closer to his foe. "We are a tight knit community here and it is part of what keeps us alive when we go out to hunt the enemy. We are not going to allow discord among our team. You would do well to keep your men out of our territory which is sovereign by treaty agreements.

“My soldiers have orders to ignore yours but there can always be that moment when things happen that can not be undone. You would do well to heed the advice you have been given here. And I would like to remind you that there are treaties governing us as well as our living and working space. It would stand you in good stead to read them." Prime rose, staring at Daniels coldly. "You may not disrupt our relationships and our commitment to each other, the soldiers and us."

"So you're blowing me off?" Daniels asked with genuine surprise. He clenched his fists in outrage. “You think you can ignore the authority I bring to my position?”

"I **am** going to ignore you, Mr. Daniels until I do not have to. We have important work to do here. We did it before you came and we will continue after you go." Prime was glacial and Daniels got it.

"We'll see," Daniels said glaring at all of them. “You fuckers will be sorry that you started this,” he said to the soldiers grinning at him. He walked to his SUV, then climbed inside. The SUVs revved then jumped forward to swerve as close to Springer's peds as they dared before thundering off at speed.

The group watched silent with disgust.

Jazz stepped forward, staring at the trail of dust that was Jase Daniels and Company. Then he grinned at his Prime. "Well, I think that went well. Don't you?"

The laughter was long and loud.

-0-Later in Ops Center

Mirage materialized as he walked toward Jazz to pull an empty chair over to sit. His knees touched his lover's. Jazz who was reading code smiled then leaned in for a kiss.

Mirage obliged. "I have something astounding for you, my wondrous companion."

Jazz smiled again.

-0-Med Bay

"And I want you to make sure that you blah, blah, blah."

Bumblebee schooled his face to listen to Ratchet but he was itching to go. Sunstreaker had nearly though inadvertently broken his tiny little spark embarrassing him in front of the gods of his existence with his little stunt. He was sure that there was something he could do in return.

It was The Mini-Con Code.

"And then you’ll do blah-blah-blah and then take this and bluck-bluck-bluck..."

Bumblebee sitting on a med bed, his peds unable to reach the floor. He kept nodding as he plotted his revenge.

-0-At a computer station in the Teletraan nexus room

"You're kiddin' me," Jazz said. His processor seemed unable to grasp what Mirage was telling him. "Show me."

"You’ll **absolutely** glitch, Jazz. I'm not kidding you," Mirage said rolling his chair over to tap into the massive capabilities of the Teletraan computer system.

Jazz leaned over his shoulder, the impossibility of what he was told ringing in his processor.

-0-In Prime's Office

Prowl leaned over next to him, his optics scanning the plans that Optimus had spread out on his desk. "This is extraordinary, Optimus. You should have told me. I could have helped you."

Optimus who was sitting in his chair watching Prowl's facial expressions grinned at the winger. "How much of the load do you **want** to carry, Prowl? You do so much already. Too much."

"I want to help you, Optimus," Prowl said looking into Prime's face. "Always."

Optimus slipped his arm around Prowl's waist. He leaned against Prowl's chassis with pleasure. "You do, Prowl. And you will."

-0-At a computer station in the Teletraan nexus room

"Oh, sweet Primus. Oh, Mirage. This is ... this is impossibly stupid." Jazz looked at Mirage, then the confirmation on the screen before him. "We have to get Prime."

Mirage agreed as he sat back watching as Jazz marveled, an altogether beautiful sight.

“Jazz to Prime.”

:Prime:

“Prime, come to the nexus room. Mirage found something utterly stupendous.”

:On my way:

Jazz stared at the screen with a huge sappy grin on his face. "He’ll never believe this. This is too stupid to be believable."

Mirage smiled. "But it is."

Jazz chuckled in delighted agreement.

  
  


Chapter 36

  
  


-0-At a computer station in the Teletraan nexus room

Prime sat in the chair staring at the screen, the words appearing but not sinking into his processor. It was too stupid, too funny, too improbable.

But it was true.

Here it was, right here.

The possibilities would take research. They might have let down a firewall and the opening could mean great things. But first, he had to just let it settle in. He turned to the group of mechs behind him looking from one face to another. "Mirage, tell me again."

Mirage grinned. "I was listening in, eavesdropping next to the patio where the mercs like to sit and talk. One of them had a laptop and was posting to a bulletin board. They were talking about some gossip they'd heard from a soldier that had been posted from here. They had access to a private bulletin board, an encrypted one that comes out of Intel-Martin in which they talked to their friends and their friend's friends. Not all of the members were that well vetted. Apparently, some of the posters were mercs for Intel-Martin. They were talking to the soldiers here and it got out."

It was silent a moment, then Prime shook his helm. "I cannot believe it. This is so ..."

"Stupid?" Jazz asked as he smiled brilliantly.

"Exactly," Prime said with a smile of his own. "I want every post downloaded and analyzed."

"Already done," Mirage said. "I had to have something to do while I watched them." He frowned. "They're vile people."

"And they like to gossip," Jazz said with a chuckle.

"They do. What did you find, Mirage? The short and sweet," Prime asked as he glanced at Prowl. Prowl was looking at the screen with a half glitched expression. Prime grinned. "Prowl?"

"It can't be this simple can it?" he asked as he shook his head in a near stupor.

"I think I can take it from here," Prime said. "You can go, Prowl. I'll fill you in later."

Prowl looked at Prime as he shook his head again. "This is so … so ..."

"So-so," Jazz said. "Go, Prowl. I'll be the gofer."

Prowl nodded, glancing at Optimus with an incredulous expression. "I'll go," he said then walk slowly out of the room.

They watched him go.

"Poor Prowler. A reasonable logical mech in a dumb aft world," Jazz said with a chuckle. "What do you want us to do, Optimus?"

"First, I want Smokescreen to stay with Sam. We cannot allow Bumblebee out of here until we figure out what to do about this." Prime shook his head. "I cannot process this, either. I am used to insurmountably difficult being the way things go but I will take this anyway." Then he laughed.

They all laughed for once.

-0-Negotiations that evening

"This isn’t fair."

"Who said life was fair?"

"Ratchet, you're a trained diplomat with experience."

"And you're the wiliest old mech I ever faced. Now, what do you say?"

Ironhide considered the question and decided. "Mech."

"All right." Ratchet ticked off another item on his list of negotiable items under discussion, or as Ironhide put it, 'tell me the fraggin' stuff you want so we can be normal again, Ratchet' list. "We'll have a mech." Ratchet grinned. "What about names, Ironhide?"

Ironhide grinned, then shrugged. "I want a good stand up name. Our sparkling will be along the awesome end of the scale so it'll need an awesome name."

"True," Ratchet said with a grin on his face. "Paint scheme."

"I don't know. Black is kinda nice," Ironhide said with a smile.

"How about a combination of yellow and black?"

"That'll be nice. I guess. How about red?"

"Red?"

"As good as any color."

"I see I'll have to do a bunch of the designing," Ratchet said shaking his head with disgust and amusement "Now we have to decide when to merge. It may take more than one time probably."

"I'm not sure this will be a good time, Ratchet."

[Silence]

-0-Later that night

"I can't believe it."

Prime grinned. "I know. But you have to understand that not every Cybertronian gets the way things work here. I do not think that every Cybertronian understands that not all the vehicles on world here are sentient."

Prowl nodded. "Starscream is a dolt."

"He is," Prime said laughing with amusement once again. "I have to tell you, I find this intriguing. We could use it to our advantage."

"That's true," Prowl said as his battle computers kicked in to form a list of options for him to present. He grinned. Maybe this wasn't so stupid after all.

-0-Daily Senior Autobot Staff Meeting

They sat around the table stunned at the simplicity of the news. Being on developing and under developed worlds a lot, most of them understood stunted and low level tech and behavior among the locals. But it had been a long time and to catch a break this big was enough to wrench your head off with its greatness.

Ironhide looked at Ratchet as Ratchet looked at him, then Ratchet looked at Prime, then Prowl and then Prime again. "No," he said with a smirk as he waited for the punchline.

"Yes," Jazz said, chuckling at their incredulity.

"No." -everyone but Prime and Prowl who grinned.

-0-Autobot-N.E.S.T. Striker Team HQ

"Optimus wants us at the meeting room in a few minutes," Will Lennox said as he leaned into the lounge from the doorway.

Epps glanced at him and nodded as he juggled a phone and computer.

"I'm going now. I'll find Niall and go." Lennox left as Epps began to unload his arms.

Will Lennox and Niall Graham drove their jeep into the Autobot HQ waving to friends along the way, then drove to the door of the conference room where the meetings were held. Parking in the usual place, they walked into the open door, pushed the rolling ladder over, climbed up and walked to the chairs left on the table for them.

Jazz was there lounging in his chair with a big smile on his face.

"Hey, Jazz," Niall said.

"Hey, Niall. I'm here to brief you. Is Epps coming?" Jazz asked as he leaned forward to rest his arms on the table top.

"He's right behind us," Will said. "What's up?"

At that moment, Epps entered then climbed the ladder to walk across the table to take a seat.

Will glanced at Jazz. "Hit us with it, Jazz."

Jazz smiled. “Okay, slaggers.”

-0-Five minutes later

"No."

"Yes."

"No. No, really... **really**!?"

"Yes."

-0-Ten minutes later in the Teletraan nexus room

They stood on a counter kneeling down to look at the screen that Jazz used to pull emails and other posts from the off limits encrypted bulletin board, 'First Strike Warriors'. They read them, the gossip that was posted by the mercs that had worked with soldiers, a couple of the soldiers who were now mercs and a few malcontents on both sides who loved to shoot the shit and bitch.

Email after email told the story. Details of life on Diego Garcia were listed. Much of the detail was wrong or just a bit off given a lot of it was speculation but some of it was correct. Some of it was bitching. Some of it was score settling. Some of it was puffery among men-at-arms, penis waving. Then it got down to the newest posts spanning the entire time the Autobots had been associated with the army.

They told of behaviors and attitudes. Sunstreaker had a number of threads and there were a few blurry cellphone pictures of him. The consensus opinion was that he was a dangerous psycho but an awesome ride. There were also threads that specialized in discussion of his alt Lambo form. His paint job was considered state of the art and much discussion was had about how to get one like it on their personal vehicles.

Other threads discussed Prowl and Prime, speculating on them and their personal habits. In fact, more than three quarters of the threads were speculation on their personal habits and lives. Sex in particular was a much discussed topic. How they did it, **did** they do it, why **would** they do it, how did they get little Transformers. It was endless, raw, crude and on the most brief occasion, funny.

Then there were the most recent posts. The ones that were most pertinent were the breathless posts someone going by Thunderbird2 made about the personal life of Optimus Prime:

From: Thunderbird2 intel-martin undisclosed listserv

To: First-Strike-Warriors undisclosed listserv

Date: October 14, 2010

Hey! Glad you could reply. I have the pictures. The lambo is my dream car. But that isn't the big news. Our deep down mole sent me a hot tip about the leader, that Prime guy.

He's a fag!

That's the trueth!I was told that he finally introduced his family when the Witwicky kid came over to Diego. He had them meet the kid's ride, that sweet Camaro. That’s one sweet concept car.

Anyway, our source told us that he's actually married in some kind of weird way to a robot named Springer. And get this. Springer is a guy! And there’s a couple of other robots in the family. There's some really old crazy robot named Cup. He's the grandfather or something and there are two others. A brother or sister or kids or something. The Camaro is their kid, **Prime and Springer!**

How in the **HELL** do you have a kid when you're a robot? Anyway, they were all introduced and everyone was nuts and I'm just crawling on the floor here. There all fags. **All of them!** We're being defended by **fag robots!**

Gotta go. Will send more later.

Thunderbird2

-0-A momentary pause to plotz

There was silence in the room for a moment.

Will blinked with surprise and shock, then looked at Niall who was blushing with embarrassment. "Well, first of all they can't spell."

Jazz chuckled. "It gets better. Check out the next email."

-0-Next email

From: High-Flyer undisclosed listserv

(this address is censored for security purposes)

To: First-Strike-Warriors undisclosed listserv

Date: October 16, 2010

I’m new to this list. I’m interested in the information posted about Optimus Prime and his 'family'. If you could post what you have including pictures I would appreciate it. I’m a robotics engineer doing research for a project with a NASA linked electronics firm that requires me to post anonymously.

I regret that I must. I’m delighted to spend time with warriors with so much skill and dedication to their country and their professions. I’ll be posting non-classified images of my own project as soon as I can. Thank you very much.

High-Flyer

-0-Same place, same surprise, new part of the puzzle

"Who’s that do you suppose?" Epps asked glancing at Jazz.

"We took a lot of time to answer that question. It took a lot of signal trackin' and a lot of hackin' but it's this guy." Jazz pressed a button and the poster's face filled the screen.

They stared in awe, turning together as one to look at Jazz with astonishment.

"Are you sure?" Will asked sputtering with surprise.

"We tracked it right back to the source. It's him, all right," Jazz said looking at the figure on the screen.

That figure was Starscream.

-0-Ironhide and Ratchet, in the dark

"So Starscream beat Bumblebee's aft because he thinks he's Prime's sparkling."

"I don't want to talk about sparklings."

[Silence]

"Ratchet?"

[Silence]

"Ratchet, how long do I have to recharge on the couch?"

[Silence]

"Slag."

  
  


Chapter 37

  
  


-0-Ironhide

He sat on the metal bench out in front of the Autobot HQ watching as Silverbolt left to fly over Australia. His brothers sunning themselves on the tarmac nearby were going to fly over the tip of South America with him when he got back. Flurries of intel needed substantiating.

He sat with a blank page open, the file marked "Ironhide's Diary" beckoning. The idea that Ratchet had a diary was interesting. He, himself was a mech of few words and the idea of leaving them to posterity was a novel concept. He also figured that whatever Ratchet could do, so could he.

Thus, the blank page.

He’d scanned the internet and got the gist. His thoughts and feelings. He snorted.

Right.

He began: "It's hotter than the Pit today which makes it fine with me. Unlike some yellow aft slaggers, I can take a lot. Today, the soldiers are running around like idiots. Even the birds are sitting on trees. The humidity is about ... a very high number. The weather forecast calls for thunderstorms and cooler weather. That should help the joggers. I don't suppose I'll be sitting here tomorrow if it comes."

He reread his entry then closed the page. "There," he said to himself. "One down. Two can play at **this** game."

He sat with great satisfaction and considered his moves for the evening. He was going to try to seduce Ratchet. He had seen a number of magazines in the N.E.S.T. Striker offices when he had gone there with Prowl over a matter pertaining to training. He had seen them through the window, joked about it with Prowl then forgetting about it.

That is, until Ratchet had doubled down. Then he remembered.

That he didn't know that Prowl had beaten him to the Cosmopolitan website didn't matter to Ironhide. He just needed to shake up his game.

An SUV drove past, a number of the new humans inside honking loudly and hooting out the windows.

Ironhide watched them, his dark expression shadowing his light moment. He pinged Springer.

:Springer:

:Slaggers are driving past the building and it doesn't look like they have a point:

:Thanks, Ironhide. I'm on it:

The big mech rose to walk toward the N.E.S.T. Striker HQ to shoot the slag with Lennox and Epps. Graham was on board Silverbolt and would be going out with the rest of the Aerialbots when the big jet came back. As he did, the SUV came roaring back from around a corner near the Aerialbot's designated hangars. He glanced their way, then turned to face them. They were in the same trajectory at an enormously high speed as his position on the pathway. They even sped up, driving startlingly fast straight at Ironhide.

His sensors were already scanning them, calculations were already made as the SUV sped forward, blasting toward him at an alarming rate. Ironhide braced himself for a collision, leaning forward to mentally prepare for impact. There would be no time to move or get out of the way without landing on a human standing by buildings on both sides of him.

Out of the corner of his optics he could see the green and yellow of Springer as the big mech moved forward, leaping over a row of electrical transformers as he came around the corner of the Autobot HQ. He was heading for Ironhide to tackle him out of the way but he wouldn’t reach him in time.

The sound of the roaring engine and the shouts of mechs in the rec hall yelling with surprise as they caught the sight transpiring before the open hangar doors were of no consequence to Ironhide. He was bracing for impact because he’d already calculated that he couldn't get out of the way without a human dying and they had no room in the space provided to stop safely.

This is going to hurt, he thought, as they hit him.

A huge boom reverberated in the space between buildings as Ironhide began to topple. He reached out to brace himself, instinctively falling away from the vehicle and the startled frozen humans all around him and as he did, he felt Springer grab him. It broke the impact of his fall, the concrete coming up faster than he had anticipated.

The screech of brakes, the spin of tires and the unsheathing of weapons all around filled the air along with shouts from the N.E.S.T. Command Center and the soldiers, sailors, civilians, marines, airmen and women who were outside. Everyone froze as the impact slammed into Ironhide's shins and they watched in horror as he began to fall.

The blur of yellow and green, the almost impossible materialization of Springer at the back of Ironhide seemed to prevent a greater catastrophe than it appeared they might have. Springer appeared out of the sky having leaped over a number of things to land with a thud behind Ironhide. He held out his servos and caught Ironhide, breaking his fall.

Ironhide bellowed, flinging his arms out to the side as pain washed through him. He pushed up again, instinctively seeking his attackers as he had in thousands of battles over the eons of his service. Energon covered the SUV, its shattered chassis flying off to one side, spinning nearly fully as it landed and bounced. The doors flung open as the humans inside flew around like rag dolls. Window glass exploded and flew everywhere.

He lay back staring at the blue sky and as he did he saw Springer's face looking down at him as he leaned over him to protect Ironhide from the broken shattered concrete flying over, around and below him. He could hear the emergency vehicles and their loud horns. He could feel them through the pavement, hear them as they came running but he didn't care. He just wanted to rise up to smite his attackers with his fists until they were dust.

He lay on the ground marginally aware of the circle of Autobots that had formed around him with weapons drawn and rage blazing from their optics. He only concentrated on what he could see when he saw Ratchet's face. Ratchet was there like he always was, his servos working as fast as they could to take care of his hurts.

Ratchet was there with his love, his all encompassing love naked on his face. He off lined his optics giving in to the pain and the nearness of Ratchet. He’d be all right. Ratchet was there. He blinked open for a moment, puzzling that he could see Optimus, then he closed them again.

Optimus Prime was in the Ops Center when he heard the boom. Everyone froze as Prowl turned from the security monitor showing the outside in front of the complex with a look of astonishment on his face. He dropped a datapad in his servo as he looked at Prime. "The SUV, it just ran into Ironhide at high speed."

As one they rose together, hurrying out of Ops Center to join the flow of mechs toward the doors as outside the spectacle was continuing. Moving at high speed, his optics filled with disbelief, Optimus saw Ironhide falling, then Springer leaping to reach him to break a small portion of his fall. The SUV was airborne, spinning wildly, then landing with a jarring impact.

There were people on both sides of the open area frozen in horror and as they hurried out, Autobots drew arms ready to fire as they formed a circle around Ironhide and Springer. Part of Optimus' processor was aware that Lennox and Epps were running as fast as they could and that military vehicles were coming with horns and lights blazing.

He reached Ironhide, then knelt down beside Springer and as he did he thought to comm Ratchet. As Prime started to do that, he saw a yellow blur pass him and run around to the other side, kneeling to begin to block the bleeding and other critical needs of Ironhide's damaged legs.

Prime sat on his heels stunned into immobility at the insanity happening before him. Springer rose, then moved to bring down the level of anger everyone felt and to allow the military to come inside the circle to get the humans. Prime looked at the vehicle nearby remembering an SUV slamming into him as well. That vehicle was going at highway speeds so the damage was more decorative than deadly.

This vehicle had to have been going at its top speed to do this much even in such a short space of travel. Given the security enhancements that he could see in the wreckage, all of which were heavy duty and thus weighty, he could see how a high speed impact with that would topple even Ironhide. He watched Ratchet, feeling at this moment the most intense anger he had felt in vorns.

Rising, he looked at the scene, the fact that there were no skid marks on the pavement from the SUV to indicate slowing of any kind and that another black SUV was bearing down on them. It came to a screeching halt as Daniels leaped out hurrying toward the hulking form of Ironhide and the damaged SUV.

Hound moved toward him throwing down his weapon on the bureaucrat, halting him before he could come too far, the barrel of his gun nearly on top of the human's head.

Prime stepping over Ironhide's out flung arm, crossing the space in no time to stand over Daniels like some avenging god. He leaned down as rage poured off him in waves and as he did he felt a servo on his shoulder. Glancing up, he saw Prowl's worried optics and rose slowly to step back reluctantly, his optics never leaving Daniels' face.

Daniels, shaken somewhat at last was not challenged. He knew Prime could kill him but he wasn't moved. "I want to see to my men," he said calling up to Prime who stood quaking silently with rage as Prowl's servo gripping his arm.

"At the hospital or the morgue," Prime said. "This is **our** **territory**. You do **n** **o** **t** have permission to set one foot closer."

Daniels considered him, then walked over to ambulances which were parked nearby and the medics that were coming and going, accessing the SUV because Springer had made it so.

The green and yellow mech stood at the edge of the wreck, his servo resting on the shoulder of Bumblebee, himself distraught. "Don't worry, youngling," he said quietly. "Hide is as tough as they come."

Bee nodded. "This is going to be a bad one isn't it?"

"Probably," Springer said, watching as Prime showed the most anger he’d seen in the stoic even keeled good natured mech in the entirety that he’d known Prime. "Prime will take care of it. We just have to keep the peace. Go and talk to the twins. I'll go the other way. Be calm and we'll be fine, Bumblebee."

Bee looked up at Springer, the confidence on his face infectious, then walked to where Sunny and Sideswipe stood together seething with rage, their weapons drawn as they turned on their peds in tight circles.

Springer walked to Prime, pausing beside Prowl. "Prime, we need to move everyone back before shooting starts."

Prime whose anger was unabated glanced at Springer, then nodded. "Make it so," he said moving back to Ironhide. "Ratchet, we will move him when you are ready."

Ratchet glanced up, his servos covered in energon. "I need a stretcher and volunteers."

Prime rose and began to give orders, the mere movement of constructive action bringing the heat down in his processor.

Mechs jumped, subspacing weapons to run quickly for Med Bay. Just as quickly, they came back bearing a stretcher. Waiting silently, they watched as Ratchet applied temporary pressure bandages to the broken energon lines of Ironhide's legs. Looking up to meet Prime's anguished gaze with his own, he nodded.

Prime directed as they moved Ironhide, helping lift the big mech onto the stretcher. Then they walked toward the hangar and Med Bay beyond as Ratchet ran ahead to be ready. Prime stood by the door seething a moment with a sense of disturbance in his spark that would take a lot of thought to quiet simmering like bubbling lava.

He felt Prowl's servo in his and squeezed it, glancing down at him for a moment. "It will be all right. I want everyone inside. No one is to be out here. I want Wheeljack to process this scene. I want facts at hand. I am going to see about the humans. I think we have a fatality or two, Prowl. I do not know how they could live through that."

Prowl nodded, squeezing Prime's servo hard as he walked away. He gave orders as the mechs moved toward the hangar, some of them walking backwards, firearms still pointed outward while others moved together in groups. In seconds, they were inside.

Prime relaxed slightly as he considered the events that had just transpired, events that hadn't happened before the newcomers.

He stared at the swarm of people working on the SUV, one occupant already pulled out and covered with a sheet as two others were being lifted to be put on stretchers. He felt a senselessness inside that such a stupid stunt should cost so much in lives and suffering. Then he felt the rap on his ped. He looked down to see Lennox and Epps, both men staring up at him, both men with expressions of wretchedness on their faces.

"Optimus, I don't know what to say," Lennox said, shaking his head with emotion. "I don't know what to say."

Optimus at that moment felt the totality of his days, the burdens of his responsibility to his people, his culture, his way of life and his mechs. He felt the emotional impact of Prowl, of his love for him. He felt the pain of Ratchet once again putting Ironhide back together, hardly having a moment of distance between the horror of Denver and this equally senseless moment. He felt the huge regard he had for the two men and their companion, Niall Graham and knew that in a short time he would be refocused and up to the challenges this posed.

But not now.

He looked down at the two of them. "I do not know either, William." Then he walked toward the hangar to disappear inside. Standing in the doorway, watching every movement and every individual was Springer and Kup with the twins standing beside them glaring defiance at the entire world.

Lennox feeling frustration nearly to tears turned toward Epps. "We're family. I'm going to see about Ironhide."

Epps nodded in agreement. The two of them, their hearts pounding with unease, the first unease they’d ever felt around the Autobots walked toward the door of the complex.

Chapter 38

  
  


=0=On a patio earlier in the day

Jason ‘Jase’ Daniels had just gotten off the phone to his father in New York City. His family were powerful and connected people. His father, James Daniels was a business man who was given charge of their sprawling family empire. James was tough, smart and rumored to be heading into politics if the election for mayor of New York played in the direction he wanted to go. Money would be no object and he’d been part of the political and social whirl there for decades with his wife and parents, helping conservative candidates win office all over the country.

He was owed.

Jason’s grandfather was William Daniels, leader of the Senate Majority and a kingmaker in his own right. He’d been a loyal member of his party and had risen in the ranks until he was chosen to be the majority leader when they won back the United States Senate. He was big, larger than life, seemingly good natured but masked a deep burning desire for power and wealth beyond the vastness that he already commanded in a mannerly facade of pleasantness.

William Daniels wanted to be President of the United States.

The grandson, Jason was being groomed to make the trek upward by eventually running for office in their family’s home state of Virginia. He was working to pad his portfolio and that included a highly leveraged stint as the State Department liaison for the Autobot brief. It would also allow them a window into the secretive world of the aliens, their technology and their doings here on Earth.

As he sat in his office going over his thoughts, a merc came to his door. “You better come quick,” the merc said before he headed back out again.

Jason stared at the door, then rose to walk hurriedly outside just as sirens began to sound. For a moment a cold tidal wave of fear flashed through him. Were they under attack? What was going on? As he hurried outside he saw emergency vehicles driving madly onward heading in the direction of the Autobot Embassy. He ran to his SUV and when he was aboard, the vehicle gunned it.

He sat on the seat watching through the window as individuals ran toward the Embassy, some necessary and some drawn by the scene. They managed not to hit anyone as they pushed through the crowd. An Autobot was laying on the ground while another held his head.

Others were out and they didn’t look happy. They had guns and were pointing them at the crowd who watched the show solemnly, moving back when the first responders arrived to assess what looked to him like some kind of car wreck. “What is this?” he asked.

The merc sitting next to him driving the vehicle, Lawrence Dobbs glanced at him. “It’s our guys. They were driving around and when they saw Ironhide they decided to play chicken with him. He didn’t get out of the way and they hit him. It doesn’t look good.”

They sat in the truck a moment, then Daniels jumped out to run for the scene. That was when others stepped forward with their guns. One of them had drawn on him, the one he would know later was Hound. He hadn't shown them fear. It was an attribute that he’d perfected over a lifetime of getting his way and showing that nothing scared him. Ever.

There were those that would say it was a bit psychotic to not know when to fear and act on it for self preservation. But he would tell them that sometimes you had to eat it to get your way. One of those times was now.

“I want to see to my men,” he had said to Prime himself, noting a response in Prime to his gall. It was something that Prime didn’t understand, his fearlessness, so he stored that bit of intel away for other encounters not so far from his favor as this one was.

Prime had said, “At the hospital or the morgue. This is **our** **territory**. You do **n** **o** **t** have permission to set one foot closer."

Considering things as they stood and the many variables that he didn’t know yet and therefore couldn’t control, he stepped back and walked to the ambulances to fill in the blanks about what had happened. Then the entire bot group walked into the Embassy to disappear, taking their wounded behemoth with them.

He sat on the chair in his office and considered the entire event from start to finish. They hadn’t been told by him to do that thing but he’d ordered everyone to ‘stir the pot’. This wasn’t really what he had in mind but it would be a start, the first salvo shot over the bow of the Prime. He would see what Prime would tolerate, how he would defend himself and what would come of this event.

Then he picked up his satellite phone and called his father in New York City.

=0=Ops Center

Blaster had returned to the console in the command center to continue what he was doing moments ago. The entire garrison was deeply disturbed and perplexed. None of this made any sense. Then he noticed a light from a markered source. He toggled it, turned on the recording devices to get every word as he traced those getting the call.

  
Jason Daniels would be recorded, every last vowel and syllable. Blaster would listen in like he was ordered to do and he would find a lot of things out about Jason Daniels’ character. First and foremost, he would find out that Jason Daniels hadn’t any.

Given that the Autobots included mostly civilians from every walk of life possible, it was a given that shady characters would be included among them. They had mechs who were criminals once upon a time, gamblers, muscle for gangs, gangsters themselves, high caste misfits and all manner of individual imaginable.

There were scientists, gunmen, doctors, soldiers, sailor men and spies. There were kick ass femmes who didn’t take no for an answer. They were as ready to fight with the boys as much as anyone else.

There were shopkeepers, librarians, high grade and gun runners, teachers, longshoremen and office drones. He, himself had been a broadcaster, ‘The Voice’ as he was called by his faction, the confidence out of the darkness of space and despair that kept things going when it all seemed lost.

The government had shut down the independent news outlets to keep their propaganda the only source for information for their brutalized and subjugated population. He was about the last free news source to end, running for his life when the orders came down to ‘take him out’.

No matter the circumstances they had come from and had forged as an army over millions of years of warfare, they had rules. You never left anyone behind. You were loyal to your faction. You faced your enemies square on, not hiding behind their back or backstabbing them. Your ambitions were submerged into the well being of the greater good and the victory that they fought so tenaciously to bring about.

Weaseliness and sparkless ambitions seeking to be fulfilled no matter their effect on the greater good and stability of all that they battled for didn’t last long in the Autobots. Prime didn’t tolerate it and neither did the ranks. It was okay if you could fight but if you were a weasel you didn’t last long.

Such was Jason Daniels.

He listened to the conversation, then reported it to Prowl as they waited for the word on Ironhide. He would do so with a slow burn in his tanks for revenge.

The difference between Jason Daniels and Blaster was Blaster wouldn’t act on it.

It would be a long grim afternoon for everyone.

  
  


** Chapter 39  **

  
  


-0-Med Bay

Ratchet stared at the mess wondering how a truck could fell a mech as stolid and powerful as Ironhide. He wasn’t aware that the types of security vehicles that the humans built to be both bullet and bombproof were enormous, gigantically heavy and designed to drive through things that might be in the way of their passenger’s escape. They were used in dangerous places by diplomats, leaders of state and others who might need to have a tank rather than a car to ensure their safety against nearly anything but a nuclear attack. Given enough speed, the vehicle that hit Ironhide was big, heavy and strong enough to do him good damage.

Ratchet at the moment didn’t care. Wheeljack would tell him.

Bits and pieces had been bandied about and he considered none of it while he worked. Later, he would do what he could about understanding the senselessness of this event. The biggest focus was right here piecing Ironhide back together. Replacing some pieces of his shin plating and pounding out others would be his life for a few orns.

Good thing he was a metallurgist of renown given his family background and a metal mechanic without peer.

Well, perhaps peer only to his fathers.

Watching the monitors, he then began the tortuous process of taking off long segments of Ironhide's shin structure and rerouting temporarily his cydraulic lubricant feeds. He had washed off the energon, dirty oil splashes from the SUV, engine fluids and glass beads from the impact glass of the SUV windshield which had shattered against Ironhide’s armor, about the only thing on Earth that could do that, the bits and pieces of the SUVs front end and underlying it was a number of very bad dents and a few broken plates. The plates had severed a lot of wiring and the long lines that fed energon throughout his body. That was the danger. The rest would be cosmetic or ensuring that the damage didn't stick around to impair movement.

It’d been a horrendous sight but as he worked he felt better. First Aid was taking the plating to place it under scopes for a thorough analysis for structural integrity and found reason for hope. It would almost all be repaired with minimal replacements, something that would make recovery a lot faster. Having to create new structures for old ones took time on a planet without the resources they needed. Fortunately, if you heated his metallic plates high enough, they would melt, be remolded and replaced as nearly brand new. They knew how to make that happen.

He worked at the lines and wires pulling things out and putting things in. It almost felt like weaving making the threads all appear as something else when the work was done. How many times he had done it for everyone let alone Ironhide, he couldn't count. He just did it one more time, his servos weaving magic and mobility for his big old mech. As he did, he didn't notice that Optimus Prime sat on a bench behind him with a look of weariness on his face.

Prowl silent and pensive stood with him, his arm around Prime's shoulders.

-0-At the entrance to the complex

They walked side-by-side toward the door and when they reached it they paused a moment to look upward at the five Autobots that looked down at them. Epps and Lennox, their grief obvious nodded to the mechs then walked forward. No one stopped them, no one said no. They disappeared inside.

"No one else," Sunstreaker said turning to look at Springer.

"Graham," Sideswipe said looking at his brother.

"Graham," Sunstreaker said, his expression feral. "No one else."

Sideswipe nodded.

-0-Inside

It was quiet, though a murmur of electronic speech flowed over the top of them like a static buzz. No one was disturbed by their appearance, some nodded, others sat together aggravated and confused. It was a long walk across the hangar, weaving around mechs but they made it to the road hugging the walls as they walked toward Med Bay. They nearly got there when Jazz spotted them then reached down to pick them up gently. He walked to a room nearby, closing the door behind them.

-0-Ironhide and Ratchet, later

"Hey."

Ratchet looked up, his startled focus practically piercing Ironhide. He walked over from a work station where he was fashioning a part to check Ironhide's feed lines and the screens overhead. "Hey."

“That hurt."

“I suspect it did," Ratchet said fussing with a spot on Ironhide's armor. "You're usually more agile."

"It sort of overtook me."

"I can see that," Ratchet said moving the blanket up a bit, fussing with it down the sides. He packed it around Ironhide giving him a warm cover to aid his pain and healing.

"I started a diary," Ironhide said. He was disturbed by Ratchet's fidgety upset.

Ratchet looked up at him with a grin. "You did."

"Yeah."

"I suppose I'm in it."

"You are."

"I suppose there’s less than complimentary things about me," Ratchet said rubbing Ironhide's arm with his servo.

Ironhide smiled. "No."

They stared at each other quietly for a moment then Ratchet lowered his helm to lay it on Ironhide's broad chest. He slid his arm around Ironhide's body and felt the gentle touch of Ironhide's powerful servo on his back.

"Truce?" Ratchet said softly.

"Truce," Ironhide said. "No end?"

"No," Ratchet said rubbing his cheek against Ironhide's armor. "We aren't through negotiations yet."

"True," Ironhide said smiling with amusement at the hilarity to come. "We have to do all the dots and I's or something. Humans and their jargon."

Ratchet chuckled. "Yeah. They're something aren't they."

"Right now, I can't say a good word about most of 'em," Ironhide said glancing at Ratchet.

"I don't suppose you can."

It was silent a moment. Then they heard someone clearing their voice. Ratchet stood then looked down at the floor, his arms still around Ironhide.

Ironhide turned his helm to stare downward.

Lennox and Epps stood side-by-side on the floor, their nervousness and upset evident.

"Ratchet? Ironhide? Are you all right?" Lennox asked, his voice slightly unsteady.

"Yes," Ironhide said glancing at Ratchet. "I'm sleeping with the doctor." He smiled. "Am I?"

Ratchet looked at him with a slight smile on his face. "Negotiations, Ironhide."

He looked down at the two soldiers. "I'll get back to ya on that one."

For the first time since looking up to watch the confounding episode happen, Epps and Lennox smiled.

-0-Outside in the chaos

The medics worked feverishly cutting the doors and panels from the dashboard of the wrecked SUV with the jaws of life. Pinned tightly into the cab, the engine pushed back until it could go no where else, the two remaining passengers waited for rescue, falling in and out of consciousness, already bearing the transfusion lines that would either save them or not.

One of the three was already dead, his body lying on the pavement nearby covered in a sheet. The two men inside, neither of them Todd Baseman, the miscreant former resident of the Autobot brig, were in grievous condition. They were a man from France and the Foreign Legion and a man from Cincinnati who had made a career of security for hire. The Frenchman would die and the American would live albeit in reduced circumstances.

Colonel Fulton, Commandant for the base stood quietly nearby watching as his personnel did what they were trained to do. He looked at the pavement and saw there were no skid marks, no attempt to brake and from the degree of impact it was obvious they were deliberately aiming for the Autobot they hit.

Fulton who was no friend of mercenaries pondered the situation, then began to walk to the HQ to make his report to the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, Glenn Morshower, a former commandant of his from back in the day.

Morshower commanded N.E.S.T Global and was his direct supervising officer. He would have his forensics done by the book, the Judge Advocate General’s office would handle the inquiry and witnesses would be placed on the record as fast as he could. The jag off mercs had made a diplomatic incident by attempting to batter or perhaps kill an Autobot. With an aggravated stride he walked to his office to begin.

Jase Daniels who was standing nearby with two of his mercenaries watched him go. He’d told his mercs that they were to disrupt where possible and make things harder for the unity that N.E.S.T and the aliens had between them. He had only passing awareness of what they did, preferring and stating the need for plausible deniability for himself as the leader of their faction.

This didn't surprise him but it was sloppy and obviously their fault. He would have to stonewall the assignment of responsibility as hard as he could. This could make them all look bad. The drunkenness that fueled this decision could cut two ways. Either his judgment of having them with him resulting in this would be a bad thing or he would be just as much a victim as the Autobot. He would make sure he ended up on the right side of this issue. No matter how it went, he had just declared open war on the aliens.

-0-Washington, D.C., at a function

He stood in the gathering resplendent in his dress uniform and wine glass in hand as he talked to a group of congressmen and women. They were at a meet and greet for a new diplomatic venture in the Middle East and he was doing his bit. When an aide came to him and whispered in his ear, he made his regrets and left to take the phone call in his special highly encrypted phone.

The congressmen and women watched him go, speculating together what emergency would be calling their top soldier away.

He took the phone call in an office room on his encrypted line. When he was finished he was as livid as he could possibly be. Issuing orders to his aide, Glenn Morshower walked back into the party, put on his game face and made nice.

-0-At the tarmac in Diego Garcia

Niall Graham stepped off Silverbolt with tech specialists following to walk to the hangar to make a check-in call. Before he reached the door, he’d found out a number of things...

1.) A security SUV driven by the mercs had crashed into Ironhide in a demented alcohol-infused game of chicken,

2.) two of them had lost and one was barely hanging on,

3.) Ironhide had injuries, again, to his legs,

4.) the Autobots were in lock down and no one was allowed inside their territory and buildings,

5.) General Morshower was going to have a conference call in the morning about the whole thing,

6.) Jase Daniels was holed up in the Transient Officer's Quarters with his mercs making phone calls to his family back in Washington, D.C.,

7.) Lennox and Epps had gone into the Autobot hangar and hadn't come out,

8.) everyone was deeply on edge.

He commandeered a jeep and drove like a maniac to the Autobot Complex as fast as he could.

  
  


Chapter 40

  
  


-0-The Senior Autobot Staff Meeting late that night

Prime sat silently staring at the empty place where Ironhide had always sat. He’d always been his right-servo mech, the one who’d been his mentor when the Matrix had inexplicably chosen him to be the new Prime. Ironhide, his gaze appraising and critical had led him through the process of transforming from a worker to a warrior.

He’d shown him his weapons, picking them out as most appropriate, trained him to use them and had been his fountain of knowledge, his entrance into the world of war and fighting that had allowed him to become the greatest fighting Prime in their people's history.

He’d known nothing and he hadn't hidden his lack of knowledge, something that Ironhide had respected in him from the start. Over the eons, over the battlefields, meetings and split haired decisions of their lifetime together, he had come to think of the big black mech as a brother. Ironhide was his brother in all but name. And with Ironhide had come Ratchet, the two pairing up way before he’d ascended to the Primeship.

They were comical and utterly, completely devoted. They were as one to each other, to the Autobots, the Cause and to Prime. That was his platform, the basis upon which he stood, Ironhide, Ratchet and the others. On their shoulders, he could do what he had to do, save, lead and inspire them. And in return he was inspired, too. Without Ironhide's prank and his defense of Ratchet, he would still be longing for Prowl. He shook his head as he gazed from the empty seat to the others around him. "Ratchet, please update about Ironhide."

Ratchet nodded, twining his digits together as he leaned on his elbows. Fatigue was evident on his face. "He's going to be fine in a cycle or two. I had to remove his shin assemblies and reroute his cydraulics. There was extensive damage to his energon lines from extreme compression making the wound look worse than it turned out to be, thank Primus. I had to replace a lot of wiring and we're finishing up reshaping his plates. Some of them were broken but they were spidery breakages that’ll heal themselves swiftly, given that Praxian armor is nearly sentient in that regard.

"Wheeljack has them almost repaired and I'll be reattaching most of them tomorrow. A few small pieces had to be remade, most of them simplistic such as his right rear locking clamp and both of his reserve power pods below his knee assemblies. I re-fed his energon deficiencies and put him into repair stasis mode.

“By tomorrow, he'll be arguing to get up but he won't be released. Part of the problem was that he wasn't 100% from Denver before this happened. Right now, he'll be returned to light duty in three cycles and back on his peds for normal duty in a decacycle."

Prime nodded with relief on his face. "I am glad. If you need back up in keeping him confined, call on me." He grinned encouragingly and so did Ratchet who sat back wearily.

"Prime, I don't get it. Why did they do this and how did they hurt him like this? He's a tough mech," Perceptor said remembering the damage clearly. "He was just crossing the tarmac to go to N.E.S.T. HQ. Why?"

"I talked to Colonel Fulton," Prime said remembering the conversation that morning after the incident.

-0-In the N.E.S.T. Administrative hangar at the speaking platform earlier

Colonel Fulton had never seen Optimus Prime angry. He’d seen him forceful about a point but usually he was calm and patient, listening to all points of view before stating his own. He would also if he felt his remarks were trumping others unduly calmly explain his position once more. But today, he was clearly angry and needful of information. "I need to understand what happened, why it happened and what is going to come next, Colonel," he said, his deep baritone modulated and polite but clearly expressing his emotional state of mind.

"You and me both, Optimus. I'm ordering an immediate investigation into the matter. The autopsies on the two dead men will be included. If there's impairment on their part due to substance abuse that will be a part of the report."

"There were no skid marks, no attempt to stop," Prime remarked, the idea of it still confusing him. "They had to have driven into Ironhide deliberately but for what purpose?"

"I can't speak for them but when I was a kid it was considered a sport to play chicken, to drive at someone else in a vehicle with your own to see who would swerve first."

"Chicken," Prime replied as a dozen references flashed past his processor as they poured forth from the internet. "All this death and consternation because of a game."

Fulton shrugged slightly with embarrassment. "I know," he said as he remembered his own memories of playing Russian roulette with his pickup truck in Texas as a youth. "We'll depose the survivor as soon as we can but we're not having any cooperation from Daniels. Intel-Martin is demanding an explanation as well."

Prime's expression hardened. "Let them."

They discussed the exchange of information and the newly issued rules in which access to portions of the base were curtailed, vehicles had to have a purpose and civilian activities were cut back severely around the building. It was essentially a no-go zone for humans. Lastly and most of all, Fulton felt when they were finished that he preserved at least for the base and the army the relationship they had with the Autobots.

-0-The staff meeting

"What a stupid idiotic aft-headed thing to do," Ratchet said as his offense raged. "They hurt Ironhide because of a prank? What **is** it with pranks like this?"

It was silent a moment. Then Wheeljack came in and took his seat. He leaned forward toward Ratchet. "I finished, Ratchet. You can re-attach tomorrow."

Ratchet relaxed. "Thank you, 'Jack."

"Wheeljack, have you started on the investigation?" Prime asked.

"Yes," Wheeljack replied. "I had to finish the refits for Ironhide but I also scanned the scene, the wreckage of the SUV before they towed it away and other factors."

"What about the SUV? How did it do so much harm to Ironhide?" Ratchet asked. "Or do you know yet?"

"I'm still analyzing it but this was no normal SUV. This is a special rebuild that was done by a specialist firm in Texas for the highest security risk clients in the world. They make a number of vehicles into armored cars and sell them to governments, corporations and private individuals. The VIN number of the Escalade tells me that it's owned by Intel-Martin, so no surprise there. It has a number of features that make it rather surprisingly lethal in the right set of circumstances."

"I would like a detailed report as soon as you can, Wheeljack," Prime said. "Jazz, you said you talked to Epps and Lennox."

"They're pretty shook up, Optimus," Jazz replied. "They're no friends of the mercs and feel as badly as can be about this. They hope the relationship won't be harmed by this. They're awfully fond of Ironhide."

"Ironhide likes them, too," Ratchet said.

"That is our main goal, to preserve the relationship. What we have to do is minimize contact with these people," Prime began. "I want chapter and verse on Daniels, his family, their friends, and associates as well as Intel-Martin. We better know the enemy before we regret it." He sat back glancing at Prowl's worried expression. "I would say we already do."

-0-Starscream

He stood on the deck of the Nemesis, a derelict wreck on a cold uninhabited moon that orbited Jupiter. He paced with agitation as he considered the new information that flowed through their computer system an orn ago. The humans were idiots. They were siphoning their people's collected conversations and correspondence then storing it piecemeal in computers without any real plan to sift it for use or even to dump it.

That part was of no consequence. What was astonishing to him was the reality of doing it through a central nexus and storing it as raw data in vast computer centers in one location. The potential for hacking and researching for targets of opportunity were limitless to someone with more than their insect mentality.

They were strange and foolish. They didn't protect their systems and societies very well. He’d hacked their information systems on a day he was very bored and found a bonanza of interesting items. Diego Garcia was home base for the Autobots who were growing stronger with every new addition from space. Prime had called for them, he’d made treaties and pacts to get a home and energy source for his people in exchange for hunting him and his faction.

It almost made him want to leave. That he was here, that he was working hard to bring down the insect population for the pleasure of it, that was almost worth sacrificing to see the Autobots without a good excuse to stay on that blue mud ball.

But he was still here, Megatron was still missing and the insult to their honor was an ever present wound. They’d defeated the Decepticons twice and word was trickling out, making its way back to the myriad worlds that were part of their dominion. It wouldn’t do for others to find out that they could be defeated. The blow back was too devastating and the insult to his pride and sense of honor humiliating.

He’d found the Intel-Martin bulletin board when they were seeking a way to smuggle Cybertronian technology to gangs, some of whom were agents in the food chain for legitimate companies. He’d nearly dismissed it as inconsequential until a tag line in its corporate registry spoke to Autobot content. He’d digested the information, thought about it a while, then found a hook that he could sink into Prime's spark.

Optimus Prime not only was bonded, he had younglings of his own. That the bond he’d taken was the infernal Wrecker, Springer was almost as amazing to him as the knowledge that Bumblebee, an infernal mini-con was his son.

Their son.

It was obviously classified information or he would’ve known about it before. Prime must be feeling secure he thought to bring it into the open. He would know that any family members of his would become prime targets. What a fool the Autobot was, Starscream considered.

He’d discussed the information with himself, deciding to strike at every level he could to put his enemy off balance, to make him watch every step he took. He’d dispatched Barricade to maim Bumblebee, getting satisfaction for the blood-thirsty predator over a prior humiliation. Barricade wanted to kill the mini-con but Starscream forbade it. In due time he considered as he paced.

In due time.

-0-Med Bay

He stood in the low lighting watching the screens to see how well Ironhide's self repair units were doing. Well, it seemed. Well and good. Squeezing Ironhide's servo, Ratchet walked to the empty med berth nearby and climbed on, relaxing into recharge almost immediately.

-0-Nearby

Jase Daniels stood on the patio, the moon overhead throwing a bright illumination over the world all around him. He smoked his cigarette, sipped on a beer and thought about his phone calls and the anger at the other end of the line. He was irritated that he was being blamed for the drunken stupidity of his men. Make that Intel-Martin's men.

He felt the urge of vengeance well up, then tamped it down. Vengeance made you do stupid things. No. He was going to succeed, then he’d move on. He’d move up. There was a Senate seat out there with his name on it. This was the path to that life, succeeding here.

He dropped the cigarette and ground it out. Looking up at the moon, again noting that not so far away were beings that had seen more moons than he would ever would.

Aliens.

There were large metallic aliens on this base, on this planet, in the universe. It made him wonder about God. It made him wonder about his mission. But it didn't make him afraid. Oddly enough, he wasn't afraid.

He rose to walk inside as the door slammed shut behind him.

  
  


Chapter 41

The Diego Diaries: In The Bosom of Love

-0-At the quarters

The knock on the door came and Ironhide hollered. "Come on in."

The door opened and Bluestreak's sweet face peered inside. "Hi."

"Hi, Blue," Ratchet said wrapping Orion in his favorite blanket. A small bag held his toys and he clutched his Sideswipe dollie in his servos. He was leaning against Ratchet staring at Bluestreak with a big smile.

Behind Blue another appeared, Sideswipe peering around the

door. He smiled. "You need a break?"

"I think so," Ironhide said grinning. He looked at Ratchet, the tall medico swaying as he held the sparkling. "Ready to cough him up?"

"Ready if you are," Ratchet said grinning back.

Sideswipe moved to Ratchet and held out his servos. "Hey, spud. How about playing with Sunny and me?"

Orion looked up at Ratchet, an uncertain look crossing his little face. He looked at Sideswipe and began to reach for him, his optics never leaving Ratchet. Then he leaned back, looking shy.

"Ah, poor little sparkling," Ratchet said raising Orion up and kissing his cheek. "Go with your brother. We'll see you in the morning," he said handing him across.

Sideswipe grinned and they turned, pausing at the door. "Don't worry about him, Ratchet. He'll be fine," Blue said.

"Keep him away from Kaon. I don't want to put those tiny wings back on," Ratchet said.

"We'll be careful," Sideswipe said and then they turned, the door closing behind them.

Ironhide and Ratchet stared at the door and then each other and then the door. "Uh, Ironhide. I forgot what we do when we 'frag its been so long."

Ironhide snorted. " Been a while since we did the sexy. I think we wrestle, I pin you and then we 'face."

"Ah, I remember now. Your idea of foreplay," Ratchet said with a grin. He turned and looked at Ironhide, a look of wily craft forming on his face. "Bring it," he said quietly.

Ironhide, his own feral grin firmly in place stretched his neck. "You're on," he said equally quietly as he slowly rose from his chair.

-0-Nearby

Prowl entered his quarters smiling. Prime, sitting on the couch reading datapads with youngling mechs sprawled on or near to him looked up. "You look amused."

"Sideswipe and Bluestreak just went by with Orion," Prowl said leaning down and getting a kiss. "Should be fun."

"For them or the sparkling?" Prime asked moving and letting Prowl join him.

"I don't know," Prowl said. "Orion didn't look happy. Could be they will be in for a long evening."

"I don't suppose you want to volunteer to help them?" Prime said with a grin.

"Only if they ask me."

"You told them," Prime said.

"Of course," Prowl said smirking. "Two sparklings for one mech is just plain wrong."

Prime chuckled and shook his head. He was doomed.

-0-In the dark, in the bosom of love

** Wrestle.  ** ****WRESTLE!** ** ** Wrestle, wrestle, pin. **

[Pause]

[Silence]

"Give up?"

"Never."

"You should. I've pinned you three times now."

"I'm a chaos bringer. I don't give up, Ratchet."

"Good."

** Tussle.  ** ****TUSSLE!TUSSLE!TUSSLE!** ** ** Bounce. Bound. Rebound.  ** ****Grip! Pin!** **

**"** ****AHA** ** **!"**

"Your knee is killing me, Ironhide."

"Oh. Sorry." It was silent a moment. "I said, " ** AHA ** !" Ratchet."

"I heard." [grin] "I suppose you think you've won."

"I always do and in doing so, so do you." [Waggle of optic ridges]

****PUSH! SHOVE! TWIST! GRIP! PIN!** **

[Grinning downward] "What was that you were saying, Ironhide?"

[Frowning upward] "Uh, I don't want to be insulting, Ratchet, but it feels like you're carrying a bit more ballast than usual."

[Silence]

"Maybe I shouldn't have said that."

"Do you  ** think ** , Ironhide? You called me fat."

"No. I called you … uh … curvy. Sort of fulsome. Rounded. Voluptuous."

"No. You called me fat."

[Silence]

"You’ ** re ** a big mech, Ratchet. You have to carry a lot of stuff inside that you make spare parts out of on the battlefield and all that medical stuff, too. I say it in the most admiring way."

[Grin] "You mean there is a nice way to say someone is fat."

"Not fat, ba-bee. Squeezy. Got all the right angles for me."

"Right angles. Pun."

[Pause]

[Silence]

[Grin] "I did pun didn't I."

"You did, Ironhide." [Smooch. Smooch,smooch,smooch] "You are one kissable old derelict."

"Why, Ratchet, you say the sweetest things."

"That's my aft."

"I know. I like your aft. Like it red."

"You're squeezing it. Feels good, Ironhide."

"It does."

****HEAVE! CRASH! REBOUND OFF WALL! CRASH TO FLOOR! GRIP! DRAAAGGG! PULL! *PIN*!** **

[looking down] "Gotcha, Ratchet. Give?"

[Looking up] "Never."

[Silence]

"Ironhide, where did you get the notion that foreplay was the sexy equivalent to hand-to-hand combat?"

"If I told ya, I'd have to kill ya."

"Or do you mean if you told me I would have to kill  ** you ** ."

"That too." [ ** Smooch. Smooch.  ** ****LICK!** ** ** ] **

"You are  ** disgusting ** ."

[Fat chuckle eerily reminiscent of sparkling] "I know."

"I wonder how the sparkling is doing?"

"He's fine, Ratchet. He's a big sparkling. Can't be a baby all his life." [Smooch. Smooch.  ****GROPE!** ** ** ] **

"You’re one subtle lover, Ironhide. Old slow hands yourself."

[Pause]

"Slow hands?"

[grin] "I want a lover with slow hands."

[Pause]

"You do?"

[grin] "I want a mech with a slow touch, not come and go in a heated rush."

[Pause]

"You never told me that, Ratchet."

"Want me to sing it to you?"

[Pause]

"You've been hanging out with Blaster again."

"Can't hurt. Music can be romantic."

"You want romantic, Ratchet?"

"You're the one who reads Cosmopolitan, Ironhide. I figured you found some new touches. Ah, I made a pun."

"You did, ba-bee. I guess I could be romantic."

"Will you, Ironhide?" [grin]

"Probably not."

Snort. "Why change perfection?"

[grin] "You said it, Ratchet. Not me."

"I know … is this  ** all ya got ** ?"

"Oh, ba-bee … you have no idea how much I got-"

****HEAVE! BASH! RUMBLE! FALL! SLIDE UPSIDE DOWN! RATTLE! GRAB! STRUGGLE! TWIST! THROTTLE! PULL! GRIPPPPP!** **

[Pause]

"I can't breathe, Ratchet."

"Oh. Sorry."

Both relax for a moment.

“Uh, we don’t breathe.”

[grin] “I know. Gotcha.”

Two giant idiots snicker.

Ironhide laid his head on Ratchet's shoulder as the big mech rolled over, pulling him on top. They rested a moment at the end of round one. Ironhide grinned. "I sure missed this."

Ratchet chuckled. "Me, too."

"You’re the best old mech that ever lived, Ratchet. I want you to know that."

"Thank you, Ironhide. You aren't bad yourself."

"Not many old mechs would repaint themselves to make another mech happy. And your chevron? Really is beautiful."

Ratchet grinned, stroking Ironhide's finials. "You are the best old mech and the best genitor I ever saw. I love you, Ironhide."

"I love you, too, Ratchet. It was awful for a while there. I'm glad for a lot of things."

"I am, too." Ratchet wrapped his arms and legs around Ironhide and hugged him. They lay together quietly.

"Ratchet?"

"What?"

"I can't … you're gripping me too tight. I can't move."

Ratchet grinned. "I know," he said quietly.

  
  


Chapter 42

  
  


-0-The next day

They knocked on the door and the sound of footsteps inside greeted them. The door opened and Blue looked out with a smile. "Hi. Come on in."

They walked inside the apartment where both sparklings were sitting on the table, Kaon supported by Sunstreaker. Orion, seeing his genitors tweeted loudly and waved his arms.

Ironhide picked him up, kissed him, then tucked him into the crook of his arm. "How did it go?"

"He was great. He really likes Kaon and they took a bath together," Sideswipe said.

"You filmed it, I hope. Another first time moment that I didn't get to see," Ratchet said turning to glare at Ironhide.

"I didn't do it. I wasn't here," Ironhide said.

"Prowl was," Sunstreaker said grinning at Ratchet. "He came when Blue told him about the bath."

"You didn't  ** call me, too ** ?" Ratchet asked.

"You were busy fragging Ironhide," Sunstreaker said. They all groaned and grinned as Ratchet slapped the back of Sunny's helm.

"I could’ve come," Ratchet said grinning slyly at Ironhide. "Wouldn't have been too hard to pause the death match to come and see the sparkling do something for the first time."

"Is that what you call fragging Ironhide?" Sideswipe said.

They all laughed.

"You coming to energize?" Ratchet said picking up Kaon to love him up. The tiny winged sparkling patted Ratchet's face, grinning at him as he tweeted. "This sparkling is dazzling."

"He is," Bluestreak said. "He's so good."

Ratchet kissed the infant again, then handed him back to Sunstreaker. "I'm hungry. Get the lead out, younglings." He walked out with the others following, trading barbs with each other as they wandered down to dine.

Ratchet walked into the rec room with Ironhide in tow. Shift had just changed and there were mechs coming and going. The sparkling got his share of pats and hugs before they sat down, plopping him in the middle of the table. "He looks pretty good. Sunny must have buffed him, too."

"Shines so much I can see myself," Ironhide said with a grin.

Prowl rushed past and waved, heading into Ops Center.

They looked at him and then each other.

"What do you suppose is animating him?" Ironhide asked.

"I don't know. Maybe Megatron showed up," Ratchet said, rising to get the energon. He wandered over to the dispenser, the past evening's shenanigans rumbling through his processor.

They’d made it a near repeat of Ironhide's 'audition', going at it and each other into the wee hours of the morning. It made him smile, the absolute galootishness of his Only One. From the first time Ratchet had seen him swaggering into Autobot HQ in his cape, he’d been utterly smitten. Sentinel Prime had required capes for his senior officers for important occasions and Ironhide had his. He was devastatingly handsome and Ratchet had made inquiries. Unbeknownst to Ratchet, he had as well and had swaggered in with his cape to impress.

He did.

It had taken a while for them to actually meet between bar hops and broken knee assemblies but when they did it was clear to anyone who saw them that they were evenly matched. Ironhide was a mech's mech, a lover of fine munitions, more cultivated and intelligent than his blustering aggression allowed most to know and he had a pretty good reputation with the mechs. He wasn't necessarily a 'player' but he knew how to play.

Ratchet on the other hand was a doctor of some renown, worldly, cultivated and fun-loving, a 'catch' and an all around good sport. He loved to dance, party and have fun. He was in demand and had a lot of attention from other mechs given that he was ravishingly good looking in the Cybertronian world of what was hot and what was not. But one good look at the handsome face and sexy finials of the Autobot Army Weapons Specialist, troop trainer and confidante of Primes was enough for Ratchet.

He was in love.

Ironhide had chased Ratchet and Ratchet had run. Not to fast but run he did. They were meant for each other and over the eons, the endless separations and the worry, pain and stress they’d changed a bit. Ratchet was less light-hearted and fun-loving and Ironhide was less patient and more aggressive. But they were still the two doofuses that had been set up by their friends as 'perfect for each other'.

He wandered back and gave Ironhide his energon, sitting down to put his big old peds up on a chair. Then Prowl ran back out and waved, heading down the corridor towards who knew where. They watched him go, cubes paused in their hands. they looked at each other again, then Prowl ran back to enter Ops Center again.

"Should I go see what's up or are you going to go?" Ratchet asked, watching as Kaon and his genitors entered the room. They walked over and sat, whereupon Ratchet 'liberated' the sparkling. Rising, he and the two walked to Ops Center pausing in the doorway.

Prowl was bent over the console at Teletraan II reading data that was scrolling in.

Ratchet walked to where he stood and looked down. Prowl, seeing who was standing next to him 'liberated' Kaon and turned to Ratchet. "They’re within reach of our communications."

"It looks amazing," Ratchet said. "Have you told Optimus yet?”

"I did," Prowl said. "He's taking the younglings to school so I filled him in and sent his instructions to Autobot City. He’s going to send a greeting party to meet them."

"Do I need to go?" Ratchet asked. "Or have they sent any information about the state of everyone's health?"

"They have a couple of medics and they appear to be all right. I've sent messages for information including status reports on the refugees and the Autobots with them."

"Any news on the status of the galaxy? Any sightings of Megatron?"

"We're waiting for the messages to come back," Prowl said, kissing Kaon on his cheek.

Prime entered Ops Center followed by Ironhide and Orion. "Anything more?"

Prowl looked at the data then grinned as Prime 'liberated' Kaon from his granny bot. "Nothing at the moment. It’ll take a few joors for the information we sent to reach them and then be returned."

"Until then, we need to be ready. A village and a number of Autobots are a big challenge. But having Fortress Maximus and Omega Supreme bringing them is going to help a great deal."

"Understatement of the year," Ratchet said with a chuckle.

-0-Autobot Staff Meeting

They drifted in and sat, chatting as they waited for Prime and Prowl. They were working in Ops Center getting the latest information. There was still a big lag time from sending to receiving but as every minute clicked past the closer they were to finding out more of what was going on. Being in the dark was for the birds, Ratchet thought as he sat tapping a stylus idly on the table top. Orion who was watching the stylus and then his genitor, then the stylus was almost mesmerized and he began to drift off into recharge.

Ironhide who was watching him filed 'tapping stylus' into his 'what the frag do I do now, Ratchet, the slagging sparkling won't recharge no matter what' file.

Finally the two came through the door and they sat, all of them taking a data pad as Prowl passed them out. Relaxing, he looked at Optimus and waited. Prime who was scrolling down saw that it was sufficiently robust and so he began.

"We have just received word that the village is within our outer communications range. They are being flown toward us by Omega Supreme and Fortress Maximus. They have been harassed by Seekers and other Decepticons and so its taken longer than they expected. We will be organizing an escort to fly out to them and bring them in."

"I haven't seen Omega in vorns," Wheeljack said, his finial lights blinking blue with delight.

"There isn't much information yet but the news so far appears to be good," Prowl said.

"Magnus better get a big butterfly net when that many mini-cons shows up on his doorstep," Ratchet said grinning. "Little slaggers are incorrigible."

Everyone chuckled and agreed.

"Some of them have been traumatized," Prime said. "The two we took from Shockwave in Aspen were. That accounted for a good deal of their poor behavior. We have taken steps to help them and I will order the same for anyone coming who needs attention."

Ratchet nodded. "The follow up reports from First Aid are promising. The cons both have jobs and they’re mentored by families. The femmes like them a lot and they help take care of the sparklings."

Prime nodded. "That's good news. The second order of business is the situation involving Shockwave and the duplicitous humans. The Justice Department is collating our evidence and accumulated data for cases to present to their grand jury. Once indictments are given there will be coordinated arrests of all the individuals involved."

"And until then?" Ironhide asked.

"We have to continue to act as if things are no different," Prowl said. "That means ignoring them mostly."

"Daniels said he had permission to sit in on N.E.S.T.-Autobot meetings," Perceptor said remembering when Daniels had actually come to one.

"He does," Prime acknowledged. "But he has not come to one since the first one and the soldiers are going home for two weeks today."

"The new ones … what are they like? The replacements?" Jazz asked.

"The Beta team," Ironhide said. "I know them and they're good. We don't have the rapport with them as we do with the Alpha team but then we don't work with them much either. They were trained by Lennox, Graham and Epps. They will do. And maybe the Cons will lay low for a few."

"We can but hope," Prowl said earnestly.

They continued on and when the meeting was concluded they rose to walk out, chatting and going this way and that. Ratchet walked toward Med Bay with Ironhide following. They parted ways as Ratchet walked inside, going to his office.

Ironhide peeled off and went to the back to begin his rounds. They were still under extreme security and Ironhide still had his duty to patrol.

Ratchet on the other hand didn't have a lot to do so he sat on his chair, put his peds up and pulled out his datapad from the bottom of a drawer where he hid it. Grinning, he put a few more chapters into his magnum opus: 'The Sexy Doctor and The Mom Van'.

-0-Far away

The news coming their way was bad. There had been defeat after defeat on the mud ball called Earth. The Fallen had been killed by Optimus Prime. The Autobots had found allies and dug in, making the solar system they occupied nearly impregnable. The seven Decepticons still on Earth were trapped. Refugees had made it to their newly built city on a neighboring planet and more were going including two of their more gigantic and feared members, Omega Supreme and Fortress Maximus.

All through the empire of subjugated species the news of Prime and his achievements, the Decepticons inability to defeat them and the continued defiance of their power was causing unrest. Species were finding the Cons could be defeated and they were trying, hitting at the structures that kept them in control. Everyone talked about it, the subjugated and their masters. It was getting out of hand.

He stood by the window of his ship staring in the space that he’d taken from others, clawing an empire into being. He had done it with sheer unyielding will and utter implacable ruthlessness. He had done it in spite of his lieutenants, in spite of his odd defeats and the organization of the enemy. Now it was under assault and that meant he would have to defend. The best defense he considered was a good offense so he stood on the deck of his ship, the minions of his multitudes working efficiently around his scary and profound silence.

He would bring it all under control. He would defeat once and for all the nemesis of his life, Optimus Prime. He would do that first and then take care of more petty problems and traitors. He already was. He had put out a death call against the Seekers wherever they were. As for his personal enemies among them, he would kill Starscream with his bare servos. Contented that he was clear in his path, Megatron walked to the command chair and sat. Directing his crew, he began the long trek toward the third planet from the nondescript and unprepossessing star called Sol.

-0-Nearby

Jase Daniels got off the phone with his grandfather. They had discussed how long he had to stay in his current position. He wanted to be home. He wanted to begin to take advantage of some of the perks that had been agreed upon during their meeting with Ondo. He wanted to be rid of this small island in the middle of nowhere. He wanted to be back in civilization, hanging out in the corridors of power with the movers and shakers like his grandfather.

Sitting here was getting him nowhere. No one would talk to him and the mole was no longer around. He’d asked and was told that the young man was in sick bay with the flu. He wouldn't be visiting any time soon. No sense getting sick from hanging out with a plebe like Corey. He was going up in the world. There were unlimited blue skies before him. His trajectory was nearly straight up and he was in a hurry to get there.

But for now he was stuck on the island in the middle of the ocean, an island filled with aliens. It was crushing to be out of the loop. It didn't occur to him that there were millions upon millions of people who would pay to have that problem.

  
  


Chapter 43

  
  


-0-In the corridor hearing toward the Rec Room

Ratchet walked down the corridor with Orion in arms. Rambler, T-Bar, Spirit, and Silverbow skipped and hopped beside him chatting together as they walked with Ratchet. They’d just finished school for the day and were going to the rec room where their parents were gathered. Rounding the corner, they saw the game and ran up to the table.

Hound pulled Silverbow into his lap. The little mechs ran around the table and huddled beside Prowl as Spirit push upward into Prowl's lap. Ironhide spotting Ratchet pulled a chair from another table and patted it.

Ratchet walked over and sat, plopping the sparkling in his lap so he could watch.

Kaon who was held by Bluestreak as he stood behind Sunstreaker was recharging.

Orion tweeted to the infant, startling him and everyone else.

"Your sparkling, Ironhide, is a big mouth," Ratchet said.

Orion who was clutching his Sideswipe dollie looked at Ironhide with a bright stream of expectation, then Ratchet who was waiting for them to give him Kaon. When it didn't happen he frowned and began to beat his Sideswipe plushie on the table's edge.

Sideswipe, glancing up to see himself being abused snorted. "Nice. Where did he get that dollie?"

"I had it made. Serves you right," Sunstreaker said. He tossed in his cards and sat back, his hand obviously the pit.

"Right," Sideswipe said anteing up.

The hand went around the table, everyone anteing or dropping out. When the cards were presented, Sideswipe was the winner.

Again.

He raked in his winnings, snarking at the moaning and groaning around him.

Ratchet looked at Ironhide who had lost with the rest. "So … are you going to let your youngling beat you or do you have a plan here, Ironhide?"

Ironhide snorted. "Just letting him get a big helm so I can lull him."

Everyone snorted, too.

"I thought I’d take the younglings down to the water for a little bit. How about Kaon, too?" Ratchet asked looking up at Bluestreak.

Blue nodded and after a bit of sassy repartee with the card players, Ratchet left with Blue, Kaon and Prowl. The card game continued.

"How is Silverbow?" Sam asked sitting on the table in his chair, his hands on a datapad that had been constructed for him so he could join in.

Bee sat next to him, his own cards in his servos, staring at them with a bit of dread. His usual hand, he thought.

Slag.

Hound who was sitting next to Trailbreaker glanced at him. "She's doing so great. She's speaking so well."

"We were thinking she needs siblings," Trailbreaker said adding to the pot.

"You mean sparking your own?" Sunstreaker asked.

"Sure," Hound said. "Silverbow deserves to have a family with siblings."

"So who will be the carrier?" Jazz asked.

Mirage, standing behind him snorted. "You couldn't **pay** me to be a carrier."

“Why?" Hound asked glancing up with surprise.

"Ask Ironhide. He and Ratchet were at war over the next sparkling weren't you?" Sideswipe asked with a grin.

"We were. That’s one war Ratchet won't win," Ironhide said as he tossed in his ante.

"Why not, Ironhide? Look at Orion. What a great sparkling he is," Trailbreaker asked as he noted Hound's discomfort.

"Because it isn't in my nature to be a carrier. I don't mind taking care of Orion. I’ll do anything Ratchet wants but that," Ironhide said. He thought a moment. "I **did** tell him that I’d do it for him when he was sick but he said he’d never ask me."

"I don't know about all this," Sam said punching in his ante. "You couldn't pay me to do that either."

"You kind doesn't have to worry about it. Femmes have the babies," Jazz said.

"I know. I don't think I could do it. It still amazes me that you guys can spark," Sam said.

"Why, Sam?" Hound asked.

"Because its a feminine thing to have a baby. I mean, among **my** kind, woman have the babies. Men don't. They aren't made that way. I don't know any men who would want to have one. Its not what men do."

"Ratchet is a mech," Trailbreaker said. "He sparked and had a sparkling."

"But that's **you** guys. Among our kind it would be looked at as very weird and sort of creepy," Sam said. "I mean … a man would be considered oddball."

"What do **you** think?" Hound asked looking around the table.

They looked back.

Bee snorted and shook his head. Looking at his hand, it was still slag. He was thinking about his cards but it stung Hound because he thought Bee was talking about sparking when he wasn't. Bee didn't notice the expression on Hound's face so absorbed in the cards as he was or he would’ve been aghast.

"Hound, if you want to spark good for you but I would never do it," Sideswipe said. "We only have Kaon because Sunny is a lazy glitch head and didn't take care of it before we bonded."

"But you **have** **Kaon** , Sunstreaker," Trailbreaker said.

"We do and he's the best little sparkling ever. But I would never have done it. I'm a front liner, a warrior. I'm not a femme."

"So if someone wants to do it they're a femme?" Hound asked quietly.

"I didn't say that."

"You did, Sunny," Sideswipe said.

"Maybe I did," Sunstreaker said. "I just hated it. I hated being stared at and having people think I was weak."

"You're a glitch head," Sideswipe said.

"You're no better," Sunstreaker said leaning back in his chair. "You have to have a screw loose to want to spark on purpose. Blue is going to have the next one."

"Why Blue?" Hound asked.

"Because Blue is ..." Sideswipe paused for a moment. "I think I had this conversation once already and it didn't go too well then."

"Have it again," Trailbreaker asked.

"Blue is sweet and smaller than us. That sort of ... he's really sweet," Sideswipe said looking at Sunstreaker. He slugged Sunny's arm. "Help me. We talked about this once already."

"Blue is small, sweet and more of a ... what? Nurturer ... a caregiver than us. We fight. Blue is more peaceful and ... slag," he said looking at his hand. He pulled three cards and tossed them.

"What do you think, Wheeljack?" Hound asked looking at Wheeljack across the table as he watched Blaster deal Sunstreaker three cards.

" **I** could never do it. I don't think I'm wired that way," Wheeljack said sorting his cards. He threw two down and Blaster gave him two new ones.

"Blaster?" Hound asked.

"I think whatever you want to do, Hound, you should do."

Hound sat quietly and when the hand was done and Wheeljack was scraping his winnings into a pile he got up and stretched. "Deal me out a few," he said. He walked to the doors and outside.

Trailbreaker watched him go and after the next hand dealt himself out with Inferno taking his place. Walking to the doors, he saw Hound standing by the bench. Walking to him he looked at Hound with a slight frown. "Are you alright?"

"No," Hound said. "I think we might want to wait about a sparkling."

"Because of those glitch heads?"

"Maybe," Hound said a sad expression on his face. "I just want to think about it, okay?"

"Hound," Trailbreaker began but Hound cut him off.

"Why don't you go play poker? I'll go to the beach and help Ratchet." With that, he walked toward the fence and the beach beyond. Trailbreaker watched him go with a troubled expression.

-0-Later that afternoon

Trailbreaker stood outside Ratchet's office, glancing inside as he waited for Ratchet to notice him. Looking up, feeling a presence, Ratchet smiled. "Trailbreaker. Come in."

Trailbreaker walked inside and pulled up a chair to sit heavily. "I wondered if I could talk to you, Ratchet."

"Sure," Ratchet said, pushing his pile of datapads aside.

Orion was in the bed box next to the desk and sat up smiling at Trailbreaker. They both smiled back at him, then Ratchet sat back expectantly. "What's up?" he asked.

Trailbreaker thought a moment, then vented a soft sigh. "Hound and I want to have a sparkling. We talked about it for a long time, sort of thinking about it like wishful dreaming. But now with all the opportunity for us to have a normal life we decided to let Silverbow have a sibling."

"That’s so outstanding, Trailbreaker," Ratchet said sitting up straighter. Then he stared at the huge mech. "So what's wrong."

Trailbreaker explained the events earlier.

Ratchet stared at him. "He seemed subdued at the beach."

Trailbreaker nodded. "He feels like his reputation as a mech is at stake or something. He feels like the garrison will think he's femme. He's really upset about it."

Ratchet nodded. "So they think I'm a femme, too?"

"No one said it but they seemed to believe that a mech would have to be a bit of a femme to want a sparkling," he said.

Ratchet sat back thinking hard as a slow burn in his tanks began to animate his fertile imagination. "Who was there? Just the ones who made these kind of statements."

"Mirage, Jazz, Bee, Ironhide, Wheeljack, Sam, too. Blaster was cool," Trailbreaker said. "Sunny and Sides. Inferno was there but he was cool, too. Perceptor was … Perceptor."

"So, we have Mirage, Jazz, Bee, Ironhide, Wheeljack, Perceptor, Sunny and Sideswipe," Ratchet said as his mind raced top speed. "Maybe a lesson is needed here, Trailbreaker."

Trailbreaker who was aware of Ratchet's incipient spells of insanity known as prank wars sat straighter. "What are you thinking, Ratchet?" he asked warily.

Ratchet smiled then leaned forward to tell him.

Trailbreaker sat for a moment digesting the information, then he smiled. "You’re evil."

"I am," Ratchet said.

"It's unethical isn't it?" Trailbreaker asked.

"Probably, but when did that ever get in the way of a good prank. I’ll run it past Prime but I have to know … are you in if there’s a go from Prime or not?"

"If the Prime of Cybertron agrees that this is okay who am I to disagree?" Trailbreaker said.

"Hound would have to know and both of you have to give an oath in your own energon that you’re in all the way and won't give away anything."

"If Prime agrees, then yes."

"Good. Wait until I ask Optimus, then I'll call you and Hound in and we'll go over what I want to do," Ratchet said sitting back as his processor got going light speed, organizing the prank to end all pranks.

"I will," Trailbreaker said as e rose to go. He looked at Ratchet. "You’re absolutely amazing."

Ratchet grinned. "I know," he said with a chuckle. He watched as Trailbreaker walked out of the room, then he arose to pick up Orion. "Come on, son of mine. We have to go see Uncle Optimus." With that, they walked out the door and into the embassy beyond.

  
  


Chapter 44

  
  


-0-Prime's office

"And that’s what I want to do, Optimus," Ratchet said as he finished up his presentation.

Optimus Prime looked at Ratchet who was sitting quietly before him with Orion on his lap. The little sparkling was chewing on his digits and 'singing'. He considered what his Chief Medical Officer was proposing, why he was and what the possible outcomes could be if he allowed the prank/plan to go forward. He weighed the possibilities, considered the targets and the effect on morale if implemented and decided that the stunning audacity of imagination it encompassed deserved to be seen in action. "This is a total violation of every ethical protocol that we observe."

Ratchet nodded. "Pretty amazing, don't you think?"

Prime smiled. "It is."

"Then you agree?" Ratchet said.

"With caveats," Prime said leaning forward on his elbows. "If there is a call for it, such as a Decepticon activity or other emergencies you pull the plug immediately."

Ratchet nodded. "No problem."

Prime leaned back as he smirked slightly. "You are really too good at this, Ratchet. You are corrupting me and leading me into the darker corners of life's little pageant."

"Springer didn't think so and neither did your dear old dad, Ironhide, if I remember correctly," Ratchet said with a chuckle.

Prime chuckled too. "That was fun."

Ratchet stood to go, shifting the sparkling in his arms. "It was. It was fragging brilliant. But what could I expect. You're such a good son."

Prime laughed. "Thank you, 'Mom'. When are you going to start?"

"Immediately. I hope you explain this to Prowl. He might glitch with all the mayhem that's going to be coming."

"Good idea," Prime said.

Ratchet grinned as he walked out with a babbling sparkling on hip.

Prime considered the prank, the magnitude of Ratchet's gall and was delighted. Nothing like smoking out the troops to keep them on their toes. Comming Prowl, Prime sat back with a grin as he waited for him to come.

-0-In the rec room

Ratchet walked in and found Ironhide, dropping the sparkling on his lap. Checking his cards, he smiled. "I see you're still losing."

Ironhide looked at Ratchet with a grimace and tossed his cards down. "Slag it, Ratchet. You're supposed to support me no matter what."

"Oh. Now you tell me," Ratchet said.

"Serves him right," Sideswipe said smirking at Ironhide.

"You don't look too good either, youngling," Ratchet said peering at Sideswipe's cards.

He groaned then looked up at Ratchet. "What the frag?"

They all laughed then Ratchet pulled a device from subspace. Tapping Ironhide on the neck, he plugged it in. Ironhide who was balancing a sparkling and a new hand looked up at Ratchet with a frown. "What are you doing, mech?"

"Getting a baseline," Ratchet lied. He punched buttons, looking totally efficient and medically competent. Then he downloaded the obscure archaic program that he’d found after some effort that had been used in mechanical medical school back in the day. It was tiny, hidden in the signal and when he pulled the plug he was smiling.

Ratchet did the same thing to Mirage, a scowling Sunstreaker, a bemused Sideswipe, a snarking Jazz and a chuckling Wheeljack. Ratchet paused behind Bumblebee, wavering, then he plugged in to the little mini-con as well. All of the main offenders had been breached, all of them had the tiny little archaic program and Ratchet had the control in his servos.

"What do you need a baseline for, Ratchet?" Mirage asked glancing up from his hand.

"I am building a database about life here on an organic world and its effect on our species," Ratchet lied. Smiling as he picked up the sparkling, he left the room.

Ironhide watched him go, admiring Ratchet's saucy red aft. Then he looked at his new hand. It wasn't half bad.

-0-Med Bay

Ratchet sat down on his chair looking at the datapad in front of him. He’d transferred the program onto it and was routing it to his own processor to be able to direct it internally. Plugging it into his own neck, he downloaded and saved it into a file which he could access easily.

Orion who was looking at him from his box bed smiled. Reaching out, he patted Ratchet's arm.

Ratchet looked at him and smiled. "You know, Orion, my little sweetie, your old pa is going to blow a gasket shortly. And in my humble opinion, I think he deserves it."

Ratchet had spent several hours doing the same data gathering to everyone he could find, going out among the garrison to collect basic information to cover up his actions among the offenders at the card game. No one else would get the download but he had to dispel the easy detection of his plan.

With that, he accessed the program internally and activated it, sending a signal to the first name on the list. Grinning, he sat and waited fifteen minutes before accessing the next two names. Then he deactivated the program, closing the file to set it aside for later. Looking at Orion who was watching at him, Ratchet grinned. "Hungry, my little hot rod?"

Orion grinned.

So did Ratchet.

-0-At the game

Mirage felt a jolt in his chest, a tiny one. He looked at the center of of it and wondered what happened. It flittered inside a moment then subsided. Looking up, he noticed that Jazz was staring at his own chest, too. Frowning, he looked at Jazz as he kicked his ped under the table. "What?

Jazz looked up. "My spark sort of wavered."

"Yours, too?" Wheeljack asked as he stared at them from across the table. He patted his chassis, then leaned back to stare at the others around the table.

"I don't feel anything," Sideswipe said as he rubbed his chassis. He looked at Ironhide who was looking at them with a curious expression. "What about you, Hide?"

"Nothing," he said.

Sam looked up from his hand and glanced around. "What's going on?" he asked.

"I don't know," Wheeljack said. "There. It happened again."

They looked at Wheeljack, then Mirage and Jazz. "What the slag is going on with you three?" Sunstreaker asked, frowning as he tossed three cards away. "I need three, Wheeljack."

Wheeljack glanced around, then dealt out cards. Looking at his hand he felt it again as the twitch in his spark happened returned. Then it subsided and he relaxed to wait to see if it happened again.

"Wheeljack?" Ironhide asked.

Wheeljack jolted and began to deal again. The card game went on.

-0-That night

"And 'Jack was off. He said his spark twitched. So did Mirage and Jazz." Ironhide put Orion in his little bed watching the sparkling sag into recharge like the champion he was.

"Oh?" Ratchet asked with innocent optics. "I'll check the data I gathered." Ratchet arose to walked to the door. "I'll be right back." He stepped out and sauntered to the Med Bay. He walked to his office. Sitting down, he picked up his datapad with his story. Then he began to type.

"The day was like any other in the life of the talented doctor. The ailing needed healing so he laid his miraculous servos on, making crooked things straight. A sound at the door caught his attention so he turned from the operation in progress to see what was amiss. It was the coy little Mom Van, Iron something or other.

"What do you want, Irontide."

"Hide," the feisty little vehicle corrected respectfully. After all, he was on the doctor's hallowed turf.

"I was hoping that you and I could have a drink later on," he said swaggering up to lean on the berth. "After all, we have a lot in common."

"Such as?" the Doctor asked asserting the standard below which he would never sink.

"Well, we're both metal."

"And?" the sexy doctor said making a move on the hapless little mom van. Reaching under his hood, fondling-"

At that moment a movement at the door caught his attention so Ratchet looked up. "Hi."

"Hi, Ratchet," Mirage said moving into the room. "Can I talk to you?"

Ratchet nodded. "Sure, Mirage. Park your aft. The doctor is in."

-0-Five minutes later

**"** ****WHAT!"** **

"Now, Mirage..."

**"** ****WHAT!"** **

-0-Ten minutes later

"Okay, Jazz. I have something to tell you. You might want to sit down."

"Why?"

"Because ..."

-0-Two nanokliks later

**"** ****WHAT?"** **

"Jazz..."

**"** ****WHAT!"** **

-0-Five nanokliks later

"Are you two tracking yet?"

"Ratchet, run the test again."

"Jazz, I ran the test four times on both of you. The findings are what they are."

"It can't be," Jazz said shaking his head. "No way, no how."

"What do you mean I'm … I'm … I'm ..." Mirage nearly froze in place.

"Sparked?" Ratchet suggested helpfully.

**"** ****WHAT?"** **

[Insert much mayhem, screaming and running around in figurative and literal circles]

"All right. Enough." Ratchet stepped back inside, wrench in hand. The two looked at him and paused their incipient hysterics. "Calm down. Let's look at this clearly."

" **How**?" Mirage asked.

"Well … have you two been merging?"

"Well," Jazz said glancing at Mirage.

"We have but we've been careful," Mirage said firmly.

" **How**? **How** have you been careful?" Ratchet asked (with)intrigue(d).

"Uh," Mirage began and then he faltered.

"What about valves?" Ratchet asked.

"What about them?" Jazz asked with intense discomfort, averting his optics just about everywhere but at Ratchet and Mirage who also was bending under the burden of his hedonism.

**"** ****RATCHET! I THINK I'M DYING!"** **

They all turned around to look into the Med Bay and to spot Wheeljack standing in the middle. Perceptor was by his side with a worried expression on his face.

"Wheeljack … what are you talking about?" Ratchet asked as he walked past Mirage and Jazz toward the distraught scientist.

"I feel like my spark is falling apart."

"Sort of fluttering?" Mirage asked as he joined the group.

Jazz pushed past Ratchet. "And it feels like you have movement in the spark chamber?" he asked.

Ratchet who was standing behind them grinned as he watched the floor show.

"Yeah," Perceptor answered. "'Jack feels odd. Ratchet? Can you check him?"

Ratchet nodded as he took Wheeljack's arm, pulling him to a med berth. Plugging him in, Ratchet went through the motions and when the data filled the screen it was as if history was repeating itself, which it was.

Wheeljack was sparked, too.

He stood up  to loo k at the graphics aghast  in every way possible .  ****"WHAT?"** **

Ratchet grinned.

-0-A half joor later

They stood around Ratchet as he held the mirror. Their spark chambers were open and in each one there was the beautiful light that registered their souls. Hovering around that light was the holographic simulation that Ratchet had downloaded. It was as perfect and as real in appearance as any real sparkling. That was its purpose. Everyone in mechanical medical school had to have this program downloaded into them and go through the process of sparking, the gestation of the sparkling development and simulated separation. It was old, efficient and almost lost to time but for Ratchet.

They stared at the mirror, the three of them as aghast as their partners. Mirage and Jazz were double aghast as they were each others partner.

Ratchet on the other hand was highly amused.

To himself.

  
  


Chapter 45

  
  


-0-In Med Bay

They sat on berths looking at Ratchet as if he could wave his servo and the bad dream would fade. Ratchet looked back at them. His servos were silent. "You know, I think you're all just too worked up about this. After all, it's a natural part of our programming and every mech can do this."

"Maybe we can but  ** I'm ** not one of them," Mirage said sniffing haughtily.

"Count me in too," Jazz said.

Just then, the door opened as Sideswipe stepped inside looking with surprise at everyone already there. He glanced at Ratchet with uncertainly. "Ratchet? I'd like to talk to you when you get a minute."

"Come on in. The more the merrier," Ratchet said gesturing to the red mech.

He stepped inside, looking at the others uncertainly.

Jazz appraised him then grinned slightly. "Slight flutter in your spark chamber. Feelin' sort of strange in the chassis."

Sideswipe stared at Jazz. "How did you know?"

"Join the crew," Wheeljack said as he shook his helm with evident disgust.

"What?" Sideswipe said glancing at Ratchet. The medic took him by the arm and plugged him into the machinery next to the diagnostic med berth. After a moment the tell tale information flashed across the screen. Staring at it with a slack jawed look of surprise Sideswipe looked at Ratchet. "You're kidding, right? It's wrong, right?"

"Wrong," Ratchet said. At that moment, Bluestreak walked into the room with Kaon in his arms. "Sideswipe?"

Sideswipe looked at Bluestreak. "I'm sparked."

Bluestreak stopped in his tracks, staring with shock at Sideswipe, then Ratchet. "He's … he can't. Remember?"

"That's the interesting part. I have a theory."

Everyone looked at Ratchet.

"What theory, Ratchet?" Wheeljack asked.

Just then, Ironhide came through the door halting at the sight. "What's going on, Ratchet?"

"Uh, Ironhide. What brings you here?" Ratchet asked.

"I have a strange feeling here," he said rubbing his chassis. Everyone groaned as Ironhide looked at them. "What?"

"You're sparked, Ironhide," Sideswipe said looking at his genitor with astonishment. "All of us. We're all sparked."

Ironhide looked at them, then Ratchet, then the crowd and then Ratchet. "What the  ** frag ** ?"

-0-A few minutes later

They began to gather in the conference room as a call was put in to Prime and Prowl to come. They were a subdued group that sat there waiting. No one present especially wanted to talk to anyone else. As they waited, Ratchet commed Bumblebee.

:Ratchet to Bumblebee:

:Bee here, Ratchet:

:Can you come to the conference room please?:

:I’ll be there shortly. I'm driving in from the dunes. Judy and Sam wanted to race around:

Ratchet grinned. :Good. Ratchet out: Glancing behind himself, he spotted Hound and Trailbreaker as they came into view. He stepped out to greet them as they approached, then glanced inside the room.

"Everyone appears to be here," Trailbreaker said.

"We're waiting on Bee," Ratchet said.

"I was talking to Inferno, Ratchet. He said that Bee was fussing over his cards. He wasn't making an opinion about our idea," Hound said. "Bee probably didn't hear us. And he didn't say anything during the whole dumb conversation."

"Bee? He wasn't involved?" Ratchet asked with surprise.

"Apparently not," Trailbreaker said.

Ratchet thought a moment. "Better to err on the side of caution. I’ve activated his programming but I’ll kill it to be safe and fair." He subbed his control and tapped in a number, the light on the dial blinking once. "There. He’s still coming though. Bee loves a good prank."

"He isn't the only one," Trailbreaker said with a grin.

Prime and Prowl appeared and joined them, both of them smirking at Ratchet. "I'm glad you decided to cut this prank short, Ratchet. You received the intel about the refugees?"

"I checked it while everyone funneled into Med Bay," Ratchet said. "Soon we'll be hip deep in mini-cons."

"Oh joy," Prowl said with a smirk. "How do we proceed here?"

"Just sit back and relax. This could go any which way." Ratchet noticed Sunstreaker approaching them. "Sunny?"

Sunstreaker glanced at the group. "Something's up with Blue and Sideswipe. They're trying to block me out but I can feel something."

"Where?" Prime asked curiously.

"My feeling?" Sunstreaker asked, glancing at Prime. He rubbed his chest a moment, then shook his head. "They're keeping something from me."

"Well, come on in and let's figure this out," Ratchet said tugging at Sunstreaker so he would enter the room. They all did and sat with Prime back at the head of the table. Everyone looked at him expectantly.

"Ratchet called this meeting. I turn it over to him," Prime said turning a smiling expression on his chief medical officer.

Prowl sat back riveted to the whole mad scheme. He was also holding Kaon.

"Well, we have a problem," Ratchet began. "It appears that nearly everyone in this room is sparked."

A murmur arose as Sunstreaker looked at Blue and Sideswipe. The two flinched. "I'm not sparked," Bluestreak said, taking Sideswipe's servo in his own. "Sideswipe is."

"What?" Sunstreaker said laughing loudly at the unbelievable news of his brother.

"It's not **funny** , Sunny," Sideswipe replied hotly.

Sunstreaker stared at him then startled. He looked pointedly at Ratchet. "Wait. He's fixed. You fixed him, right?"

Ratchet shrugged. "I have a theory."

"You said that **already**. What **is** it, Ratchet?" Wheeljack asked hotly.

"I need more information," Ratchet said pulling out his datapad and the small control device. "I need you to either tell me or if you find it sort of … how shall I say it … embarrassing … just raise your servo."

Everyone looked at him, sitting tensely in expectation.

Then Ratchet began. "How many of you have 'faced in the past couple of days?"

Everyone looked at him then each other as the idea of telling their tale in public curdling to their energon. Then they hesitantly raised a servo.

"Sunny, Sideswipe, Wheeljack, Jazz, Mirage. No Ironhide," Ratchet said checking off the data on his datapad. "I can attest to that one."

"Now, how do you face? Valves? Merging? Or should I ask one thing at a time?" Ratchet looked at them, the frozen tableau before him. No one spoke. Ratchet chanced a glance at Prime who was sitting with a servo covering his mouth. Prowl was riveted, holding Kaon closely as he watched.

"Uh, Ratchet … what the slag is your idea?" Ironhide asked, looking at Ratchet with a dazed expression.

"I was thinking … you play cards a lot with Sam."

They nodded.

"Sam is the Allspark."

It sunk in.

"Oh, Primus," Sideswipe said holding his helm in his servos. " **Sam** is the one."

Everyone began to talk at once and as they did Bumblebee walked into the room. "Hi, Ratchet. I'm here."

"Have a seat, Bumblebee. We're having a pity party here," Ratchet said.

"You think we should be **happy**?" Wheeljack asked.

"What's so good about being sparked, Ratchet?" Mirage asked.

"Well, I got Orion out of the deal," Ratchet replied, sitting back with a slow burning sense of irritation. "I think it was slagging **good** for me and for Ironhide. **Right, Ironhide**?"

Ironhide looked at him a moment, then his optical ridges narrowed. "Ratchet, I want to see you in the hallway."

"I'm pretty damned comfortable **right** here," Ratchet said casually as his own optical ridges narrowed.

"What's going on? I don't know what's going on," Perceptor said shaking his head in confusion.

"Ratchet's making a point. Right?" Ironhide asked, looking at Ratchet with a piercing optic. They glared at each other, then Ironhide began to falter. "Right?"

"What do you **mean** , Ironhide?" Ratchet asked, the picture of innocence.

"You're making some sort of point here. I don't know what it is but I know you. You have that look," Ironhide said.

Everyone looked at Ironhide, then Ratchet.

"I'm lost," Perceptor said, holding his helm in his servos.

"You all seem to think you have a dread disease," Ratchet said.

"We do," Jazz said.

"Why?" Hound asked.

"Because I **don't** want to be sparked," Jazz said.

" ** Slag  ** ****yeah** ** ," Sunstreaker said. "Once was about twice too much for me."

"You were **supposed** to take care of it, Sunny. It was your **own fault** ," Sideswipe said hotly.

"Yeah? Well, you were **supposed** to be **safe,** too," Sunny replied. "And slaggin' look at **you**."

"Trailbreaker and I wanted to expand our family to give Silverbow what she hasn't got, siblings. We want her to feel safe, to have someone to help take care of, to have a brother or sister that will be a part of her life. When we said so, everyone jumped on it like it was a bad idea," Hound said. "Like to want that makes us less of a mech than the rest of you. Like we’re femmes or something."

" **I** don't think so, Trailbreaker," Bumblebee said with sincere innocence. He looked at Hound and Trailbreaker, his optics frowning. "I didn't know you wanted to do this. Silverbow will be so happy and we get another sparkling." He looked at Ratchet. "I love sparklings."

Ratchet felt his optics mist. "I do, too, Bumblebee."

"Well, not all of us want to ****carry**** a sparkling," Wheeljack said.

"But some of us do and what did **you** knot heads do when Hound told you about his plans? You made him feel like he was weak, like he was a femme, like he was less of a mech than the rest of you," Ratchet replied. "And you’re also including me and Sunstreaker when you say so."

Sunny frowned.

The room was silent.

Then Jazz shifted. "I'm sorry, Hound. I don't want this for **me**. But I don't want you to think that you can't have what **you** want."

"You **did** , Jazz," Hound replied quietly. "Silverbow, she's the best thing ever. Trailbreaker and me, we've been bonded a long time and even though we wanted sparklings, we never thought we would. The war would never let us. Then we got her."

"She's so wonderful," Trailbreaker said. "When Ratchet and Sunny had their sparklings we knew it was the time to get serious. I had a bad feeling about saying anything."

"Doesn't matter. You think I'm a femme for wanting to do this for Trailbreaker and Silverbow," Hound said.

They sat quietly, all of them.

Then Prime looked at Ratchet and smiled.

Ratchet smiled back.

He leaned forward and looked at the group one by one, waiting until they all looked at him. "How does it feel to be sparked?"

They looked at him, all of them including Sunstreaker. "You don't seem upset, Optimus," Ironhide said, frowning slightly. "Half the Alpha team is sparked and you don't seem bothered."

"No," Prime said. "That is because you are not sparked."

You could have heard a pin drop.

  
  


Chapter 46

  
  


-0-Conference Room, Ops Center

"Because you are not sparked."

They stared at Prime, the words heard but not grasped.

Ironhide who coming to the realization first due to long acquaintance with the prankster king looked at Ratchet. He grinned slightly, meeting Ratchet's cool gaze levelly. "You slagger."

Ratchet looked at him calmly betraying nothing. He waited for the geyser to go off.

And it did.

Wheeljack, looking at Ratchet with disbelieving optics rose to his peds. "What? **You fragger!** "

Sideswipe looking at Sunny and Bluestreak turned looked at Ratchet. "How did you do this? I was … I took care of sparking. What … **the Allspark**?"

Soon they began to babble to each other and to Ratchet who sat serene and above the fray. Almost as one they looked at Ratchet who sat calmly and looked back.

"What the frag?" Jazz said.

"You’re mad at the wrong person, Jazz," Ratchet said.

"Well, tell me who to be mad at, Ratchet, and I'll do it," he said standing with his servos on his hip assemblies with outrage illuminating his features.

"Look in a mirror," Ratchet said quietly. He looked at each of them. "In all the time I’ve been a doctor I’ve never heard talk like this … equating sparking with weakness, with being femme before from mechs. Where did you get the idea that it was like that? We’re androgynous. We’re gender non-specific.  ****EVERY LAST ONE OF US CAN SPARK** ** **!** Where did you get the idea that it was something to be ashamed of?"

No one spoke as Jazz sat down slowly, his optics fixed on Ratchet. "We didn't mean it like it sounded."

" **Sure** you did," Ratchet said. "What **I** want to know is … is this something you **truly** believe, that this is the result of that part of our life being inconvenient and off limits for so long we forgot some things or are you getting this slag from the soldiers?"

For a moment it was quiet. "Sometimes the soldiers talk and you might say that its probably a good bet that it gets heard," Wheeljack said reluctantly.

" ** **They**** might think its femme. **They** might consider it **weak**. **Their** culture has those kind of prejudices. They might also think that **our** relationships … ****YOUR**** relationships are the same way. ‘Sissies’," Ratchet said. "They might think I'm femme because of Orion and some of you as well because you're bonded with other mechs."

" ** Frag  ** ****that** ** ," Sunstreaker said  as he glanced at Ratchet with a frown. "I'm no femme. Kaon is mine and he's perfect. Fraggin' perfect. So what?"

"But you  ** had ** a sparkling. That must mean you're femme or weak, right? You said it yourself, Sunny. You didn't want anyone to think you were weak because you're a warrior."

Sunstreaker looked at Ratchet for a moment. "I still feel that way. I'm a warrior."

"But you had Kaon. It wasn't easy. If its so easy why don't the rest of you do it?" Ratchet asked looking from one to the next.

"Because we aren't wired that way," Ironhide said.

"Oh, but you are, Ironhide. You **are** wired this way. You just choose not to exercise it," Ratchet said. "Hound wants to. He says so and he gets buried in ridicule. Is that what we have to face from now on? Ridicule? What about **me**?"

It was silent a moment.

"I know for one that it wasn't weak what you did, Ratchet," Ironhide said quietly. "I know it wasn't for Sunny. I told Primus when you were hurt that I’d do anything you wanted including sparking the next sparkling if you would live. I told him that I’d do this if you pulled through and I meant it. I promised the hardest thing I could think of just so you would live."

Everyone looked at Ironhide.

He shrugged.

"You did," Ratchet said. "And I told you that I would never ask you because I know, Ironhide, that even if you mean it, and you do, you aren't inclined to do it on your own. I would never ask you to do that unless you wanted to do it and I know you don't. That doesn't make you weak. That has nothing to do with what you are as a mech. But **this** … **this** isn't what **we are**. How can we feel low about what we are? This is what we are."

Prime agreed. "I know," he said quietly. "I know there were a thousand unethical parts of this prank. But when Ratchet told me about it I agreed with the caveat that if something came up that it be suspended. I am sorry it was. I am sorry I ca not see what your fertile mind had in store for all of us." He thought a moment as he leaned forward on his elbows. "We are an endangered species. We have a second chance here. The best thing we can do is make more of us, those among us who want to. The rest of us need to support that. Without sparklings we will die off. We will become extinct no matter how long lived we are as a species. We cannot have that."

It was quiet a moment.

"There’s a mini-con village coming. I don’t know if there’s sparklings or younglings among them. They may all be adults. We all know they’ll be slaggers," Ratchet said grinning at Bumblebee.

He tweeted a feisty tweet before smiling at Ratchet.

"Not every mini-con is as awesome as you, Bumblebee." Ratchet looked at them. "All of us are important and all of us who can and who want to spark need to do it. I don't know where all our people are but the ones here are few even though it might not seem so.

"We just got five more Seekers. That makes eleven adults and three hatchlings. That's a huge number for us but a drop in the bucket for what we used to be. We have to support those among us with the bolts to do this. You could’ve derailed Hound and Trailbreaker's happiness with your slaggin' archaic **prejudiced** attitudes."

Prowl glanced at Prime. He pulled the blanket away from Kaon and moved him to the tabletop to prop him up on his round little bottom. He was yellow and red, black and white and his little chevron gleamed. He was beautiful that everyone noted right away. "This is the love of my life." Prowl glanced at Prime. "No offense."

Prime chuckled. "None taken."

"This little sparkling is an affirmation to me. I found Bluestreak at death's door, knocking at the Matrix for entry. I kept him, raised and loved him and between the two of us we made a family and saved each other. Now we have a step beyond ourselves with this little sparkling. He's beautiful and wonderful. He, Orion and the others, the little mechs and Silverbow, they’re our future and our only hope. With them, we continue. The more the merrier because here we have a chance to take a chance. Optimus and his vision, his strength and leadership has created an oasis and here we can make our families. I’m so tired of not having families in our lives. Without sparklings we’re finished. Without Kaon, we have no future. We **have** to support that."

Kaon opened his tiny blue optics and blinked, looking at the face across from him and the blinking light finials of Wheeljack.

Perceptor looked at him, reaching out to touch Kaon's tiny ped.

The infant grinned and waved an arm, his little servo clenched into a tiny fist. A very soft tweet issued from him.

Perceptor smiled. "I love them but I don't want to carry one," Perceptor said. "They’re beautiful but I can't do it."

"Not everyone can," Ratchet said. "But the ones who can should be protected against slag. They’re making our future one sparkling at a time."

It was silent a moment then Sideswipe shifted slightly. "Ratchet … what about this?" he said patting his chassis.

"What about it?" Ratchet needled, grinning slightly at his discomfort. The slagger.

" **Ratchet** ..." Wheeljack said glowering slightly.

"Its an old program from mechanical medical school. We had to download it and experience sparking through to separation. I put it into you."

"That's … that's ..." Perceptor sputtered.

"Unethical?" Prime offered helpfully.

Perceptor looked at Prime then nodded his head.

"I can shut it down. Do you want it to be shut down?" Ratchet asked looking around the room. They glared at him and agreed, watching tensely as he retrieved his control. Looking at it, he grinned. "I had so many things planned for this prank. I really worked out such a good one. You would’ve been proud, Ironhide."

"I imagine I would be, you crafty slagger," Ironhide said grinning at his daft partner in all things.

"You’re getting off easy," Ratchet said eyeballing all of them with a severe optic. "You **deserve to suffer**. But the refugees are coming. Slaggin' mini-cons. Ruined a good prank."

Ironhide snorted then looked at Bumblebee who was grinning at Ratchet. "I can't believe I'm saying this but thank Primus for the mini-cons."

They all laughed as the atmosphere lifted.

Then Ratchet shut down the program. As he did, he smiled. He didn't tell them that he could have it derezzed in each of them. Only Bee would have that benefit. The rest would carry it in their programming and only Ratchet would know. When he glanced up at Prime, that mech was relaxing in his chair.

"The mini-con village and a number of Autobots with them as protection are nearing the long outside range of our communications. They have sent messages and they confirm that they are being brought to Autobot City by Omega Supreme and Fortress Maximus," Prime said.

Murmurs filled the space as they considered the luxury of two of the greatest guardian transformers among their own kind coming to their city.

"Do we go to meet them, Optimus?" Jazz asked as he leaned forward on his elbows.

"Some of us are going to Autobot City tomorrow and we will be dispatching three of the Aerialbots and a couple of the combat shuttles with troops. I want Ratchet on Mars with the rest of the medics. We have to anticipate a number of things. The messages say that they were being harassed by Seekers and there were Decepticons who were aware of them. They also said that a number of Seekers were traveling with them because they confirm that Megatron has put a death order out on them. They want to come see if the message that Starscream put out is real and then relay it into the galaxy for their kindreds."

"That would mean we have to expand the facilities for Seekers on Mars and we’ll have to screen and debrief them. Starscream will have to help on that score," Prowl said moving Kaon onto his shoulder, then covering him with his little blanket. "We could get some seriously good intel from them, especially on the whereabouts of Megatron if he's still alive."

"I believe he is and I feel the same foreboding as Starscream that he will come back," Prime said seriously.

Jazz agreed. "It’d seem reasonable. The mech has the fortitude and toughness of a cockroach. No matter how hard the shoe hits him, he keeps coming back."

Prime grinned. "True," he said.

The conversations continued then they stood to go, moving toward the door and the corridor beyond. As Jazz reached the door he turned toward Hound and Trailbreaker who had sat quietly together during the encounter. "I'm sorry, Hound. I didn't mean to hurt ya. I should’ve known better."

Hound nodded. "Thanks, Jazz."

"You both are still going to try aren't ya?" he asked.

Hound glanced at Trailbreaker who still showed offense. "We will."

Jazz looked relieved then walked out the door followed by a number of the others with Ironhide and Ratchet among the last. They walked together down the corridor to Med Bay then entered, relieving a tech from watching over Orion. Orion was tucked into his old pa’s arm as the two continued into Ratchet's office. Ironhide closed the door behind him as Ratchet looked at the two of them, waiting for Ironhide’s real reaction.

"I have no idea how you get Prime to do your bidding but this is the lowest prank you ever pulled," Ironhide said staring at Ratchet with a smirk as the medic moved to sit on the couch.

Ratchet sat and patted the space next to him. "Sit, you slagger."

Ironhide grinning in spite of himself sat beside Ratchet, parking the sparkling on his lap. Orion who could see himself the center of attention of the two most important individuals in his life smiled brightly. "What did you plan for us if I may ask?"

"Well … you would’ve had to experience the joys of sparking … all the odd pains and the like. I suppose I could tell you more but I might want to use it again at some time and where would I be then?"

Ironhide snorted, drawing the attention of his son.

Orion looked up at him, then Ratchet, then Ironhide again. He raised his arm and offered Ironhide his dolly. Ironhide took it, kissed it and handed it back. Orion grinned and began to flog it against Ratchet's leg. "I sort of caught on finally at the end to what you were doing."

"I noticed that," Ratchet said. "I'm proud of you, Ironhide. Tell me something."

"What?" Ironhide asked warily.

"What did you think when I told you that you were sparked?"

Ironhide stared at him then shrugged. "Stunned. Really stunned."

"In a bad way?" Ratchet asked.

"Half and half. I thought slag. I thought that Primus actually heard me and granted my wish. Then I thought ,slag. Half and half. Proof that Primus listens and proof that I have to be careful what I ask for."

Ratchet snorted, then laughed out loud. "You better. Sometimes more than Primus listens."

It was quiet a moment. Then Ironhide smiled. "For a moment I was glad. You know how I feel about this sparkling."

"I do," Ratchet said squeezing Ironhide's arm.

"But I’ll tell you honestly, I'm really, really,  ****REALLY** ** glad that I'm not sparked."

"I know," Ratchet said. He grinned. "Femme."

Ironhide laughed out loud.

-0-Elsewhere

"Ratchet is diabolical."

"He is," Wheeljack said as he passed the bottle to Perceptor.

Perceptor took a deep drag then passed the bottle back. "I think Ratchet is the spawn of Unicron sometimes."

"I do, too," Wheeljack said guzzling a large amount of high grade before passing the bottle back. "I'm glad he is. Makes things colorful. But he's still a slagger."

"True," Perceptor said taking the bottle. "To Ratchet the slagger," he said tipping the bottle back. He looked at it, shaking it. "This is empty." He tossed it against the wall with the other two. "Another dead soldier."

"Don't worry, Percy," Wheeljack said making effort to crawl across the quarters to the cabinet where two more bottles were. It would take him a while.

-0-Still elsewhere

"Ratchet is evil."

"He is."

"He’s the devil. You know what the devil is don't you, Jazz."

"I do. Unicron with a tail and horns."

"That's right. That's what Ratchet is. I pity Ironhide to live with that crazy slagger."

"Ratchet's okay as long as you keep a sharp optic, Mirage."

"If you say so," Mirage said with a shake of his helm. "He scares me sometimes."

Jazz grinned.

-0-And still elsewhere

"Ratchet is almost more than I can understand," Prowl said tucking in the last mech.

"He keeps the plates spinning," Prime said as he watched from the doorway as he leaned on the doorjamb.

Prowl straightened things up, then looked at him. "If you say so, Optimus."

Prime grinned. "I do."

-0-At home with the trine

"Ratchet is awesome."

"Blue, Ratchet is mad."

"Sunstreaker, Ratchet is your genitor."

"I know. He's mad but I don't have to worry about inheriting it."

Sideswipe grinned. "I think its funny. I don't know why but I do. He even got Prime to go along."

"That's because he's slaggin' mad," Sunstreaker said. He watched them as they washed Kaon in his little basin. "That makes him awesome. Remember that."

Blue grinned. "You're both just saying that because you aren't sparked."

"Probably," Sideswipe said taking Kaon into a warm towel. He grinned at his son then kissed him. "I wouldn't mind another sparkling eventually. Keep a date open, Blue."

"Me?" Blue said glancing up at Sideswipe.

"That's right, Babe. You're next." Sideswipe with sparkling in arms moved to sit next to Sunny who was getting the movie ready.

Blue looked at them with fury, his servos on his hip assemblies. "You didn't hear a word Ratchet said."

"Nope," Sideswipe said patting the couch.

Blue stared at them then walked over to take his place between them. "You're both full of it. We'll **see** who sparks next."

"You," both of them said together as the movie began.

Bluestreak struggled not to smile.

  
  


Chapter 47

  
  


-0-Rec Room, the next day

He sat on the middle of the table looking up at the ceiling. As he looked upward he leaned backward and tipped over. Laying on the table looking around, he frowned. Glancing to both sides of himself, Orion tweeted.

Ironhide who was watching his son with a grin tweaked his ped.

The infant grinned. Tweeting again, he waited.

Ironhide pinched his ped again and the infant chuckled, a fat round deep sound.

"That sparkling has the most wicked laugh," Blaster said as he sat down beside Ironhide.

Orion glanced at Blaster with a giant smile. He tweeted and smiled again flapping his arms.

Blaster glanced at Ironhide then reached out pick up the sparkling. Holding him up, Blaster smiled. "You’re one cute little thing," he said resting Orion's peds on the table.

The infant bounced as he grinned at Blaster.

Blaster laughed and held Orion as he bobbed.

Then Orion straightened up as best he could.

Blaster knowing no better loosened his grip to allow the infant to try and stand on his own.

Ironhide looking on with huge surprised interest watched as Blaster removed his hands from contact with the infant.

Orion who was then standing on his own smiled hugely and flapped his arms which caused him to lose his balance. Blaster caught him and they did it again with Orion standing pretty well on his own peds. He did this several times before he tweeted a mournful sound and they let him sit. He sat looking upward at Blaster, then Ironhide and then Blaster again. He picked up his Inferno dollie and began to pound on the table with it, tweeting to himself.

"Wow, Ironhide. He can stand a little," Blaster said with delight.

"He's a gifted sparkling, this one," Ironhide said bursting with pride. "Just a talent he never knew he had."

"What talent?"

Ironhide froze in his chair. Turning slightly, he noticed Ratchet standing behind him with servos on his hip assemblies. "Oh, hi, Ratchet."

"What did he do that I just missed seeing?"

Blaster who was unaware of the danger the two of them were in smiled. "He stood by himself. Orion, he stood alone."

Ratchet's expression didn't change for anyone who might not be intimately versed in Ratchet body language and facial composition but Ironhide read the warning signals correctly. Rising, he pulled a chair from another table. "Have a seat, Ratchet."

He stood a pointed moment then stalked to the chair, sitting on it with a controlled fury.

Ironhide who was gathering his guts sat on the chair next to Ratchet.

Orion, spotting his other good old pa grinned widely and offered his dollie.

Ratchet took it with a severe optic fixed on Ironhide, kissed it, then handed it back to the baby.

Blaster who still oblivious leaned on his elbows. "Do you want to see?" he asked sweetly.

Ironhide glancing at both of them shifted uneasily in his seat. "Uh, that's alright … Blaster, you don't ..."

Ratchet sat back folding his arms over his chassis. "Sure, Blaster. Show me."

Blaster smiled then looked at Orion, offering his servos.

Orion smiled and reached for him.

Blaster held him in his servos kissing the infant, then settled him on his tiny peds.

Orion with a dollie in one tiny servo and joie de vivre breaking out of his happy good-natured spark braced his feet. With a moment of steadying, Orion stood straight. He was poised on his tiny peds, then he wavered. Blaster caught him, then sat him on his aft. "See? What a great sparkling this is."

"He is. Wouldn't you think so, Ratchet? What a great sparkling?" Ironhide said looking at Ratchet with wary optics.

Ratchet was silent a moment. "I'm overcome."

"I would be, too," Blaster said with a smile, missing the deeper meaning altogether.

At that moment someone called from the door for Blaster. Looking at Ratchet and Ironhide, he began to rise. "I've got to go."

"You don't, do you?" Ironhide asked. "You can stay a bit longer can't you?"

Blaster shook his head. "I can't but I'll see you later. I have to help get ready to go to Autobot City." He began to leave, then turned back. "If you ever need someone to watch him let me know. I would love to do it." With that, Blaster walked away.

Ironhide on the other hand was stuck. He hazarded a glance at Ratchet, then looked at Orion quickly. "Well, I guess we better go on our rounds, right Orion?"

Orion looking up from a wobbly visual examination of his crotch area grinned as he raised his arms to his old dad. Ironhide picked up the infant, then turned to Ratchet. "I have to go now, Ratchet. I'll meet up with you later in Med Bay." With that, the two fled.

Ratchet watched them go, his ire ebbing almost immediately in the comedy of Ironhide's retreat. Shaking his head, he rose to walk to the energon dispenser. He had to get ready to go to Autobot City later that day. Filling a cube, he watched as Wheeljack walked into the room.

Wheeljack freezing at the sight of Ratchet walked backward and fled.

Perceptor, halfway into the room watched Wheeljack pass him then turned to catch sight of Ratchet. He stood a moment uncertainly then gathered himself to walk to the energon dispenser. He began to fill a cube as he looked at Ratchet with a cool optic. "Ratchet."

"Perceptor," Ratchet said with a smirk. "How long are you going to pout?"

Perceptor paused his cube halfway to his lips, then frowned. "Pout? I think I'm entitled to be angry with you."

"If you say so, Percy. How long is Wheeljack going to run when he sees me?"

"You had him  ** sparked ** ," Perceptor said with a sniff. "That's hardly pouting."

"He's a big mech. And he deserved a shellacking after what he said to Hound," Ratchet said grinning.

"You're a strange one, Ratchet," Perceptor said shaking his helm. "You scare some of us. It's gotten worse with landing here."

"You're just a sour puss, Percy. What happened to the idea of fun? What happened to make you an old mech before your time?" Ratchet asked as he refilled his cube.

"I just have standards," Percy sniffed.

"If you say so, Percy. I have to go help get the move to Autobot City going. Wheeljack is coming. Are you?"

"I am," Percy said sipping his drink. "I have to help integrate Fortress Maximus into the city infrastructure."

Ratchet grinned. "That’s a good addition. I wonder where the others are?"

"I don't know. I hope he has some news about them," Percy said. He turned around to look at the tables. Turning back, he took the cube Ratchet had filled and held out to him into his own hand.

"Since Wheeljack is such a poor sport take him his energon. Wouldn't do getting sick and having to come to me would it?"

Percy looked at Ratchet. "No. I think he’d try to heal himself for the near future."

"Tell him boo for me, okay?" Ratchet asked with a grin. He patted Percy's arm then moved past him to walk out the door and over to Ops Center. Entering, he walked to the center station where Prowl sat working on his usual million things. Sitting down, he put his peds up on an empty chair and lounged back to relax. "Morning, Prowl."

Prowl looked up with a grin. "Good morning, sunshine. How's the infamous prank aftermath coming along?"

"Wheeljack is hiding, Percy is sniffing and the others? I haven't seen them yet." He grinned. "Whiners."

Prowl smirked. "Truly. So … you ready to go take over the Med Bay at Autobot City?"

"Mostly. They aren't asking for much beyond me and a couple of medics. All of the equipment and supplies necessary have been compiled there. I think I want the trine with me to handle the screenings and manage the crowds. I want intimidating mechs to move the mini-cons around to where they need to go."

"And Kaon?" Prowl asked looking up from a data pad filled with messages.

"If bringing him along is a bad idea, then maybe you can have him until Blue or someone can come back. I don't know what I'm facing so I’ll need them all. Sunny was excellent help at the brawl. The other two can supplement that."

Prowl agreed. "It would be the first time Kaon was away from all of them. I wonder what they’ll think about it?"

"We're soldiers. If Ironhide wasn't so good with Orion I’d leave him behind. There's a couple of femmes with sparklings and there's Gear Shift. If worse comes to worse they can have Orion or we can send him back to you. Lucky you."

Prowl sat back with a grin. "What's one more when you have three already? Two sparklings and three younglings. Sounds like fun. There’s no small number of mechs ready to take care of all of them. And four of them go to school."

Ratchet agreed. "I suppose Orion should stay so he won't miss school, too."

"Play it by ear," Prowl said. "We can always take him back here."

Ratchet rose. He looked at the intel pouring in. "I wonder how the new Seekers are going to find it here? Megatron is a fool. He's losing a very good tool from his arsenal. It seems to me that he's going off the deep end pretty fast."

Prowl nodded. "We can't count on him having a very good grasp of reality. That makes him even more dangerous. A rational mind would concede this system and move on. But this is Megatron we're talking about."

"He's off his processor."

Jazz walked into the room with a datapad occupying his attention until he was halfway across from them. Spotting Ratchet, he slowed and then stopped. He grinned, an altogether beautiful affect. "I come in peace."

Ratchet laughed. "I leave in haste." He began to walk to the door bumping Jazz slightly with his hip. He left the room to walk down the corridor entering Med Bay. His pack and duffel bag were ready and waiting by the door so he walked into the office and sat, pulling up screens on his master computer.

The tracking satellites had the group placed midway through the solar well and heading at great speed toward the Oort Field. The Aerialbots had already left taking a number of the garrison with them. Cosmos would bring Prime and Ratchet along with others remaining shortly. The Aerialbots would continue outward with a number of heavily armed shuttles from Autobot City.

The composition of the group carrying the mini-con village included between five and ten Seekers. The exact number was unknown as they were keeping their distance. They were paralleling the two guardian bots without provoking any aggression and even though it was clear that they’d joined the party it was not completely clear what they were aiming to accomplish.

Prime, Ironhide and Ratchet were going to conference with Starscream who’d been informed of the situation. He would be the one who would bring them in. They would give their oaths if they were going to stay and they would be debriefed for whatever intel they could give. With Starscream's participation the hope for information of the threat that was massing beyond their secure borders could be realized.

Just then door opened and Sideswipe leaned inside. "Hey."

"Hey yourself. Come in here and sit," Ratchet said.

Sideswipe entered and behind him came Sunstreaker with Kaon in arms.

Ratchet held out his arms and Kaon was his, grinning at his grand genitor with his happy little face.

The two sat and waited, aware that they were going to Mars.

"So, what's the news?" Sunstreaker asked as he handed over Kaon's Prowl dollie. The infant took it and began to suck on the dollie's head.

"You two and Blue are going to be part of my team to shift the mini-cons to the correct places for screenings and the like. I expect you to deport yourself with the usual class one would expect from the younglings of me and Ironhide."

Sideswipe grinned. "I’d think you’d want us to behave ourselves."

Ratchet grinned at him. "I have a mean right cross and a lot of great wrenches, you two. Don't embarrass your genitors."

"We will," Sunny said with a big grin.

"And I think you ought to know that Kaon will be staying with Prowl," Ratchet finished.

The smiles faded. "What about Blue staying with him?"

"Blue is needed with us," Ratchet replied.

"Orion?" Sideswipe asked. "Is he coming?"

"Can't pry him loose from Ironhide," Ratchet said shaking his head.

Sunstreaker smirked. "Mech's obsessed."

"He is," Ratchet agreed. "Prowl will take Kaon and if we need to we’ll send Orion back here. I think he needs to go to school. I don't like him missing school."

"Want us to tell Ironhide that he has to leave his sparkling?" Sideswipe asked. Sunstreaker grinned in anticipation.

"I would," Ratchet said even as a pang went through his spark. "Can't play favorites with the sparklings."

"Consider it done," Sunstreaker said rising to go. Sideswipe rose, too, and reached for Kaon. Taking him into his arms he went to the door to wait for Sunstreaker.

Sunny stared down at Ratchet. "Last time I worked with you, Sideswipe was in the brig and everyone was bent and broken."

"A memorable night if I remember right," Ratchet said with a grin.

"Lightning in a bottle as the humans say," Sunstreaker said moving out the door. Sideswipe watched him go then looked at Ratchet as he shook his head. "Half the time I don't understand him."

"Me neither," Ratchet said with a chuckle. "Don't tell him though."

"I won't," Sideswipe said as he walked out.

Ratchet stared at the door then arose. He shut off the computers as he prepared to leave. Walking outside to the main room, he picked up his bags and walked out the door to the staging area on the flight line where Cosmos was waiting for them to come.

Chapter 48

  
  


-0-A little later

They walked up the ramp to board Cosmos, Ironhide and Orion, the twins, Blaster, Hound and Bumblebee. Ratchet was next and waited at the top as he watched Bluestreak and Prowl discuss Kaon. Bluestreak kissed the tiny winger and reluctantly put him into Prowl's arms. Turning to go with sadness on his face, he climbed the ramp to enter, passing Ratchet as he did.

Ratchet watched as Prime left the embassy, walking with a couple of Autobots as he gave last minute instructions. Jazz and Mirage waited beside Prowl as Prime kissed both his bond and his grandson.

They talked a moment or two, then Prime walked up the ramp, smirking at Ratchet as he passed. Ratchet waved then entered the interior to take a seat on the floor beside Ironhide.

Orion was sitting on his lap tweeting and flogging his Inferno dollie against the deck in his happiness to be going some place.

The others sat along the wall, Wheeljack and Perceptor already on board and as the ramp closed and the shuttle began to rise Ratchet sat back and relaxed. "I see you succeeded in your mission," Ratchet said nodding sideways at his son.

Sideswipe grinned. "Easier to get the key to Megatron's chastity belt than to get that sparkling away from Ironhide."

Ironhide grinned. "He's essential personnel. He has skills. You'll see."

That got slag squared.

Ratchet moved closer to lean against Ironhide's shoulder, shifting slightly as he did.

Ironhide looked down at him and frowned slightly. "Your hip still hurts?"

"Just a little bit," he replied ignoring the ice pick sharp pain in his hip.

"We might have to re-calibrate your limb, Ratchet," Perceptor said with a frown. "It could be the accelerated protoform growth is putting it a tiny bit out of alignment. We’ll check with Cynabar when we get to Autobot City."

Ratchet agreed then he grinned. "Want to hold the sparkling, Wheeljack?"

'Jack looked up from his datapad and blanched. "Uh, no thanks, Ratchet."

Sunstreaker grinned. "You should give it a try, 'Jack. Might open up new possibilities for you and Percy."

Perceptor shot Sunstreaker a severe optic then slipped his arm around Wheeljack's shoulders. "We're just fine. Thank you for your concern."

The frigid tone of Perceptor's voice and the cringe of Wheeljack was entertaining but Ratchet decided not to press his luck. So he turned his optics onto fresh meat. The ride to Mars was old hat and even though it took only about forty-five minutes it was time enough for mischief. He looked at Sideswipe who sat fiddling with his swords. "Sideswipe."

The red Lamborghini looked up. "What?"

"When you popping the next sparkling?"

Everyone turned their gaze to Sideswipe as the red Lambo glanced at his brother.

Sunstreaker smirked as he watched Sideswipe, enjoying his moment in the sun.

"Never. I cede pride of place to our great leader," Sideswipe said turning with a huge grin to Prime.

Optimus who was watching the proceedings with a smile lost it then leaned further into the wall. "I cannot accept the honor, Sideswipe. I leave the next sparkling in your capable hands."

"Nice save," Ironhide said with a smirk.

"Thanks," Prime said. "I have been dodging that bullet for a while."

"Prowl wants  ** you ** to spark?" Wheeljack asked.

Prime looked at the optics transfixed upon him then shifted nervously. "No."

Ratchet shook his helm. "Femmes. All of you. Little prancing femmes."

Sunstreaker laughed loudly, getting a dirty look from Sideswipe.

"Don't laugh. Be afraid," Sideswipe said indignantly.

"Not me," Sunstreaker said with a wicked grin. "I've already sparked."

For a moment they digested that still unbelievable news, then Ratchet chuckled. "Finally. Something good out of all that beside Kaon?"

"Slag **yeah** ," Sunstreaker said with a chuckle.

It was silent for the rest of the trip.

-0-At Autobot City, Mars

They walked into the fortress, greeting and being greeted by soldier and civilian alike. Some of them considered Prime with the optics of a god-like figure, someone who had founded a haven for them to come and live. He’d saved them, this representation of Primus among them, the First Disciple of Primus to be exact and he was viewed with open adoration. As Prime walked to Magnus' office, a towering and masculine figure even among the larger soldiers of the garrison, all optics were upon him. He reached the office nodding to Magnus. It was then that he greeted Senator Gravitas.

At that point the door closed.

Ratchet who was peeling off with his gear limped to the Med Bay, entering to greet the staff who were waiting for him. Wheeljack and Perceptor following behind then called Cynabar over and for the next two joors they tinkered with Ratchet's hip and the delicate task of calibrating foreign metal around growing and regenerating protoform.

Ironhide and Orion walked with Blaster and the twins to the rec room to pull up chairs. The sparkling was set in the middle of the table. Peering all around, tweeting and chirping happy talk to himself he watched as everyone came and went, some stopping to talk and some to hold him. He was perfectly content.

Prime on the other hand by this time was hip assemblies deep in details about the guardian transformers blasting their way. Messages sent orns ago were reaching them one after the other. Some of them were dispatches about the attacks they had earlier on. Then they told of the Seekers pulling away from constant harassment. The latest ones told of anywhere from five to a dozen Seekers shadowing them. It was clear to all involved that they were captivated by Starscream's spark felt message to defect.

"Then we have to get with Starscream. He can bring them in and explain the situation here," Prime said. "He can secure their cooperation and oaths as the price of sanctuary."

"We have a request to build an aerie in the foothills nearby that can house the Seekers. They understand the need to be underground as far as living space goes for the time being. It will have above ground structures for them to utilize to simulate Seeker barracks during the day. The ultimate goal is to have a settlement in the mountains beyond for the Seekers," Magnus said.

"That was always my wish," Prime said.

"It’s my impression, Prime, that there would be no divergence of settlement among us," Gravitas interjected. "I thought your idea was to create one settlement with everyone. Do you wish to accommodate the mini-cons if they request the same thing?"

"No. I would not accommodate that request," Prime said leaning back in his chair. "For now, until we see that the threat to our overall security in this solar system is secured I will not allow it. We cannot defend too many positions. The Seekers can submit their plans and because of their special nature we will see to it that when circumstances allow they get what they ask for."

"The mini-cons were always autonomous on Cybertron, Optimus," Gravitas said. "They won’t like living in the city among average sized Cybertronians."

"They will have no choice in the matter. We were easy to conquer on Cybertron because we did not think as one. We lived apart from each other with distrust and jealousy. I am not going to allow it here because it undermines our unity and security. The old class systems of Cybertron are finished. They led to revolution and the destruction of our people. No one is intrinsically more important than anyone else. We all work together to be free or we die alone one by one in our autonomy."

Gravitas stared at him for a moment, then smiled slightly. "It is good that the Senate and the Council of the Ancients didn't survive the war, Optimus. You just spoke treason."

Prime shrugged slightly. "If our society had been just Megatron would have had no audience for his views. Some things that have been lost are not missed."

"There may be those that don't agree with you," Gravitas remarked.

"Then they can move on. I am not going to debate anyone about the changes. We are going to live the ideals that we pretended to believe back on Cybertron. We are free and will be equal and just in our relations among each other. No one is born any better than anyone else. Anyone with a problem will deal with it and adjust or we will help them move on."

"You would do that? There are Cybertronians who believe in the caste system," Gravitas said quietly.

"Because they benefit from it. Ask lower caste individuals if they want to keep it. Let us go outside and take a show of servos," Prime said equally quietly. "Those who abused their fellows because it benefited them are going to have to adapt or leave."

Gravitas looked at him levelly. He grinned slightly. "Brave new world, Optimus?"

Prime agreed. "Welcome to the first Cybertronian meritocracy, Gravitas."

"As for each having a voice in the life we’re building here … what are your plans for that?" Gravitas asked.

"At some point when martial law is not a fact of life and we can organize our society better there can be representative government made for all to be heard. Everyone of us gets a vote. Our elected representatives can be anyone who runs and gets the most votes. No hereditary or caste-driven elections and councils. I will not tolerate it."

"The will of the people?" Gravitas asked.

"The right of everyone everywhere is to be free," Prime said. "Our people feel it here  and they live it. They will never go back to what passed for society on Cybertron. That freedom will be protected as long as I live and beyond me. The Matrix  ** demands ** justice, Gravitas.  It bends toward justice. We are n o t fighting for this place, building it up with our energon and broken backs for the old system to take over and make the same mistakes that have nearly driven us to extinction. I am the Prime of Cybertron, the only remaining officially appointed or elected official still alive and I am Prime here as well. All Cybertronians,  ** all of them ** on both sides  no matter where or when they live are my responsibility.  ** None ** are of less value to me than any other."

Gravitas considered that. "There are Seekers coming. How many do you suppose we can tolerate before its too many?"

Prime considered his question. "All of them."

Magnus barely suppressed a grin.

-0-Later

Ratchet walked to the rec room spotting Gravitas nursing an energon cube with an expression of deep thought on his face. He walked over and sat down beside him. "Hello, Gravitas. Long time no see."

"Hello, Ratchet," Gravitas said jolting out of his reverie. "It's very good to see you."

"You look confused. Anything I can help you with?"

Gravitas smiled. "Ever the Autobot Ambassador?"

"Always and forever. I'm a goner over the Cause. I thought you would remember that," Ratchet said with a chuckle.

He shrugged. "I'm not used to a meritocracy."

"Ah," Ratchet said. "Its easy. You just look at everyone as a son or daughter, brother or sister, a neighbor who you care about. Its harder for some than thinking of them as lesser beings. But in the end its much more fun. The upper class aren't nearly as interesting as they think they are." He leaned closer. "I have to tell you a very great secret, Gravitas."

Gravitas looked at Ratchet as memories of the wily negotiator flooded his processor. "Do tell. I’m all audials."

Ratchet smirked then leaned closer. "The class system sucked."

Gravitas looked at him with an old familiar expression on his face. Ratchet on the other hand leaned back and smiled.

Chapter 49

  
  


-0-Autobot City, Mars

Sunstreaker, Bluestreak, Sideswipe and Bumblebee sat in the Med Bay watching as Ratchet marshaled the troops. The incoming village, unknown Autobots as well as the two giant guardian bots were estimated to be due in a day or two so they worked to finish final preparations for the new members of their colony.

The trine and Bee would be escorts for the newcomers as they went through the medical screening and interview processes. Bumblebee would be especially helpful being a mini-con himself. As they sat all around the city, things were being ramped up.

Optimus and Ironhide walked down the central corridor that led to the new constructions. Given the lead time that they’d been given, the city had begun construction of new underground quarters for their burgeoning population. The walls they passed were cut stone, smoothed and reinforced with steel, the corridors wide and well lit. They moved out from the main hub into other central parts of the city, which themselves were hubs with radials moving outward to more areas of occupation.

The recent constructions were made to house newcomers and provide space for workshops and other public areas. Storage was deep in the facility with munition and energon stockpiles from the outlying production plants allowing sieges to be endurable.

They passed barracks for single mechs and housing for bonded couples. There was space for schools and communal dining areas. The rest of the empty rooms and areas would be allotted to individuals and groups for activities and occupations submitted and passed by the city manager, Ultra Magnus.

By the time they’d explored the new construction it was time to tour the essential facilities. The energon plants, the construction fabrication units, the actual heating and lighting plants and the munitions facilities were duly scrutinized. The improvements to the energon production plants were also viewed and remarked over. Having more mechs to care for and the needs of the guardian bots had made expansion a priority item.

Prime who was listening to the experts, construction bosses, scientists and other team leaders felt an incredible sense of relief and pride as they returned to Ops Center from the smelters. All of the expertise among their people, the mechs and femmes that made it happen smoothly and swiftly had worked another miracle. They made him proud. He’d always felt that if they could make a stand somewhere they could construct a colony that would stand up to attack. It had seemed a faraway dream but today it was reality.

When Fortress Maximus and Omega Supreme arrived they would have a force so potent that it would give even Megatron pause. They entered Ops Center moving toward Teletraan III. Sitting down to go through the latest intel, they began to plot a time frame for the arrival of the flotilla. In three joors they would also begin the first conference with Starscream over the Seeker situation.

-0-Med Bay

They walked out the door leaving First Aid behind. He was working on the computer system to get it ready for more files and new patients. Sitting on the floor was a big metal box. Inside it, soft blankets padding his aft, toys all around, Orion tweeted and hummed softly to himself. Ratchet had the twins rustle up a playpen and the metallic box had been available. Sitting it in the Med Bay where they would take care of him, they placed the baby inside with his stuff and left to help set up the stations outside in the corridor and the main hub beyond.

Orion played with his dollies, his blocks and a couple of his favorite empty munition shells. He played with his digits, explored his tummy and waited for his creator. As he did, he heard someone walking nearby. He looked up and waited.

No one came.

"Tweet?"

A pause in the motion gave him hope so he looked up hopefully. A face appeared, a smile formed and arms reached for him. He was raised up and a femme hugged him, looking at him with a smile. "Hello, you little pudgy muffin," Arcee said kissing him. "Where's your old genitors?"

First Aid who was sitting at a computer leaned around the corner of the bay. "They're out working. He's incarcerated until paroled later."

"I see," Arcee said with a laugh. She played with him a moment or two, then reluctantly put him back in the box. "I have to find Ironhide. I'll see you later, sweetie." With that, she left.

He waited for her face to return, looking up expectantly but she didn't come back. For a moment he sat waiting for her, then for about a half a joor one after another mechs coming in for other things came over and talked to him, smiling and picking him up. He enjoyed himself, his dollie was thoroughly kissed and so was he.

They would hold him while chatting with First Aid, walk around Med Bay with him showing him things or just play with him and his toys. But in the end they all did the same thing. They put him back in jail and left. He sat on the floor of his velvet cage and pondered the injustice of it all.

-0-Far away

The two behemoths flew through the darkness heading toward the call that had reached them some time back. Optimus Prime, their leader and the bearer of the Autobot Creation Matrix was calling them. He had spoken of safety and hope. They could use some.

Living in the expansive spaces of the two guardian Autobots the mini-con village, D-4, was hoping against hope that the safety they were fleeing toward was a permanent thing. They had the usual mini-con attitudes. Smallness in a tall culture may have some necessary practical applications but it also had its drawbacks. Size did matter. The tall ones didn't always take them seriously and the short ones often were belligerent when it wasn't necessary.

Given their potential as weapons, the forced power link capability demonstrated against them by the Decepticons, they were distrusting and defensive. They didn't trust Decepticons from experience and many transferred that distrust to the Autobots.

"Everyone wants to use us," Leader-1 had said. "Even the Autobots. You can't trust the Prime. He's no better than Megatron."

There was dissent regarding that point of view but there was also agreement for it among the population. As they flew ever farther away from Megatron, whom everyone agreed was certainly following them, they drew scant comfort that each sector passed brought them closer to the Autobots.

Leader-1 stood at the window staring out into the darkness with a knot of worry in his tanks.

"Our messages have reached the Autobots at the colony," Skid Stop said as he stood beside their village leader.

Leader-1 looked at him. "Well, we shall see. I don't trust any of them. Not even the Prime."

"The Autobots helped get us away when no one else did," Skid Stop said. "You can't go at this like they’re the enemy."

"They are until they prove they aren't," Leader-1 said stubbornly. "I won't be the one who gets us caught up again. We have to be vigilant."

"And then what?" Skid Stop said. "What do we do then?"

"We break away. We don't get abused again," Leader-1 said. "If it means we have to kill a few Autobots to be free of slavery, we do it."

Skid Stop looked at him and then the stars beyond. He was as sick now as he was when the Decepticons came and destroyed their village. He was as afraid and uncertain as he’d been in the middle of the raid that had landed them in cages, property of the Decepticons and the horrible experimentation that had turned some of them into power boosters for the Cons.

-0-Med Bay

It had been a while since someone had come in to hold him. Orion who was waiting patiently as he tugged on his ped was considering fussing or calling for his old dad. When he tweeted loud enough Ironhide had always come. He would appear out of nowhere, like a god and take him away from whatever box bed or play bin he was sitting in.

His atar was his hero. His ada was his hero, too. They were attentive, loving and always there. He looked at his toys, the dollies and blocks, shell casings and a battered book. They were fun but they weren't his genitors. He looked up, his attention fixating on a ceiling fan slowly turning as it circulated air in the underground room.

Watching it, he felt a calmness come over him, a trance inducing ennui and then he jolted, coming back to reality before falling into recharge. Looking around, looking at his fingers, his toes, his toys and the side of the box, he decided to call his parents. They always came.

They loved him.

"Tweet."

Nothing happened. He looked up and frowned.

"Tweet?"

[Silence]

He grabbed his Sideswipe dollie and hugged it to his chassis a moment, a slight chill of uncertainty running through him. Then he looked up and waited. Nothing changed.

**"TWEET?"**

Nothing.

**"** ****TWEET** ** **!"**

He saw and heard nothing. So he decided that he would put all he had into it to allay the fear that was gathering in his tummy. Putting down his dollie, looking upward, he put into his call all his energy, effort and need.

****"TWEE-EEEEEEE-EEEEEEE-EEEEEEEE-EEEEEEE-EEEEE-TTTTT-TTTTTTT-TTTTT!"** **

-0-Nearby

Ratchet looked up. An ear-splitting tweet filled the room and rolled down the corridor. Everyone in the vicinity covered their audials including him and the twins, Bluestreak and Bumblebee. Everyone glanced around as their processors twirled.

Ratchet jolted. "That was Orion," he said as he ran for the door with the rest of them behind him.

-0-Also nearby

The tweet could be heard loudly in Ops Center. Ironhide knew from the moment he heard it that it was his son. It was almost poetic in its majesty how fast he rose up and ran for the door. By the time he reached Med Bay, Ratchet had gone inside, dashing through the door seconds ahead of him. Ironhide hurried to the box skidding to a halt beside Ratchet.

Both of them stared downward.

They both saw the same thing.

Orion was lying on his back, his arms and legs sprawled outward. He was lying among his toys and dollies with his little optics shuttered. He was out colder than a cucumber.

  
  


Chapter 50

=0= **MED BAY!**

**"Don't!"**

They’d hurried at the sound of Orion's cry. Entering Med Bay, Ironhide hurried to the box skidding to halt a beside Ratchet. They both stared downward. They both saw the same thing.

Orion was lying on his back, his arms and legs sprawled outward. He was lying among his toys and dollies, his little optics closed. He was out colder than a cucumber.

Ironhide started to reach down but Ratchet grabbed his arm. **"Don't!"**

Ironhide stared at his son with terror-filled optics. He looked at Ratchet, gripping the box as he did. " **What's happening to him**?"

Ratchet scanned him to find him alive but offline. Reaching down, he picked the infant up and hurried to the diagnostic med berth. Turning to the office where First Aid stood as if rooted to the floor, he hollered. **"I need infant sized interface cords!"**

First Aid disappeared down the hallway and came back with a fistful, dropping them on the med berth. Ratchet took one and very gently plugged it into Orion's tiny medical interface port on his neck. He punched information into the panel over the bed. Data flooded the screen scrolling quickly by.

Ironhide stood beside him holding one of Orion's tiny servos. He looked terrified and he waited nearly trembling beside Ratchet.

Ratchet was focused on the screen, reading the glyphs as they passed by. Then they stopped. Ratchet thought a moment then he turned to Ironhide. "He overloaded some of his internals when he tweeted that loud, Ironhide. He has a couple of burnt out circuits and about three chips that have to be replaced in his processor. He also needs his audials repaired. He harmed himself by the volume of his cry."

Ironhide nearly passed out. "Will he die?"

Ratchet looked at Ironhide, the terror on his face overwhelming. "No, Only One. He’ll be alright."

Ironhide looked at the infant lying silently on the berth. He felt like weeping he was so frightened. "Ratchet ..."

Ratchet leaned against Ironhide, slipping his arm around the big Autobot's waist. "I know," Ratchet whispered. "I have to fix this, Ironhide. I want you to go and sit on the med berth. I don't want you to see this."

"What do you have to do?" Ironhide asked, his voice tight with agonized emotion.

"I’ll have to remove his helm plates and take out the burned bits. I don't think I want you to have that in your processor," Ratchet said quietly.

"You have to do **that**?" Ironhide asked with an agonized voice. "What about this? Will he have problems like Starscream? Its dangerous doing this isn't it?"

Ratchet gripped Ironhide's arms. "Ironhide, listen to me. I have to do this. It's the only way to fix his injuries. He won't have problems like Starscream. It's a routine thing when a circuit is compromised. I just don't want you to see him like this. You brood enough about things as it is."

Ironhide looked at him, then his son. "I can't leave him like this. He needs me, Ratchet. I **have** to stay here with him. He's my son."

"He is," Ratchet said gently. "You won't be leaving him. You can sit on the med berth over there and be here but you won't see him during the procedure."

At that moment Perceptor and Wheeljack rounded the corner and moved through the crowd that no one had noticed until now. They stopped before the two, looking at the silent infant and the emotional adults.

"Ratchet?" Wheeljack asked with horror in his voice.

"He blew circuits tweeting as loud as he did," Ratchet said his voice more calm than he felt. "Ironhide is upset."

"Ironhide, this isn't a dire procedure. Ratchet’s an expert at this and we'll help him. So will First Aid," 'Jack said.

"You needn't be afraid, Ironhide," Perceptor said.

Sunstreaker, Bluestreak and Sideswipe stood behind them, their faces stricken with fear and worry.

Bluestreak walked up and took Ironhide's arm. "Come on, Ironhide. The twins and I will sit over here with you. It’ll be okay. Ratchet is going to do this."

Ironhide looked at Bluestreak, his wretchedness overwhelming him. "I should’ve had him with me. He was calling for me, Bluestreak. I should’ve been here."

"You are," Blue said gently tugging on his arm.

Sunstreaker moved to Ironhide and took his other arm. "Come on, Ironhide. We'll stay here, too," he said quietly.

They moved back, the four of them filled with misery and fear.

Bumblebee having run in along with Ratchet and the others moved to stand by Ironhide as all of them watched Ratchet.

He looked at them and managed a slight smile. Then he moved Orion into place on the berth. As he did, Ironhide arose and walked to the berth to look down at his son. He leaned down to kiss him, pressing his cheek against Orion's. Then he reluctantly walked back to the berth to sit on it to wait.

Ratchet looked at him as their bond blazed with emotions, then turned to First Aid. Perceptor and Wheeljack took the other side of the berth and the four of them began.

-0-Nearby

Prime heard of the ruckus when he finally reached the central hub of the city. Hurrying to Med Bay, he walked over to stand by Ironhide who looked at him with barely contained emotional disarray. He squeezed Ironhide's arm, then willed himself to relax as talked to Ironhide over internal comm links.

:What happened, Ironhide?:

:He overloaded his circuits calling for me. I should’ve been here. He should’ve been with me. He cried so loudly for us that he burnt out circuits in his processor and harmed his audials:

Prime looked sick a moment. :Ratchet will make it right:

:He will: Ironhide replied.

At that moment, Prowl checked in. :Optimus, what's wrong? Your energy is awful:

Prime told him.

-0-Ops Center, Diego Garcia, Earth

Prowl sat stunned for a moment staring at the screen before him without really seeing it. In a bed box in the corner, sitting up braced by pillows Kaon cooed and played with his digits. A cold chill permeated Prowl as he waited, running Ops Center in Prime's absence.

-0-Med Bay, Autobot City, Mars

Ratchet moved carefully, the fragile protoform of a sparkling much different from what he usually worked with. He hated working on infants, their tiny size and overall delicate beauty was almost too emotionally debilitating when he did. He’d taken the infant and youngling courses, knew how to fix nearly anything that needed repair but he didn't like it and had done only what he needed to do to graduate.

Now he was working on his own son and the pressure was overwhelming. He tamped down his emotional subroutines. Then he lifted the plates away from Orion's helm. The underlying mechanisms and working parts of his son's 'brain' were laid bare and he felt a churning in his tanks. This was his son's mental capacity and his individual personality laid bare.

Ratchet looked at it a moment paralyzed with the site then tamped down his emotions even more. Turning to First Aid, he took the tool he was handed and began to pry the burnt chips out of their slots. It was tedious work and he had to make sure nothing was left behind. A small vacuum sucked out the ash and tiny bits of metal that had flaked off during the melt down.

When that part was clean, Ratchet added special lubricant to the area. Perceptor had retrieved the tiny replacement parts and with Wheeljack had shaped two of them to fit and had them ready for insertion.

Ratchet took them one by one and with infinite care he inserted them. Two went into tiny slots and three others were snapped into place. They were coated with a gel that promoted electrical activity among the circuitry and then he was finished.

Before he could put Orion's helm back on, Ratchet had to test the new bits. Plugging Orion back into the diagnostic machinery he began the testing process. Screen after screen of data flashed past on the monitors overhead as the program put the new circuitry through the check process. Ratchet watched it, noting success after success as it passed each one.

Behind him watching without comprehension, Ironhide waited with Bluestreak's servo clasped in his own. Sunny and Sideswipe, pensive and worried watched along with everyone else.

When the final test was completed Ratchet turned Orion gently on his side. He began to deconstruct Orion's left audial, replacing two parts that had snapped under the vibration of such a loud sound assault. Putting it back together, wiping it clean of oil and lubricant, Ratchet turned Orion onto his other side and did the same thing. It was slow and painstaking but it was finally finished.

Turning the little infant onto his back, Ratchet checked once more the overall status of his repairs. The data on the screen checked out so Ratchet pulled the tiny plug from Orion's neck.

Stepping back, he turned to Ironhide. Ironhide arose to walk over, leaning over his son to caress his cheek with his servo. Looking at Ratchet, he asked, "Can I hold him?"

Ratchet dialed up his emotional programming. "You can. But very gently, Ironhide. This is going to be sore for a bit."

Ironhide gently gathered his son into his servos. Holding him up to his face he glanced at Ratchet. "Why isn't he awake?"

"He will be. Right now, I have him in a light recharge until he has a chance to assimilate the changes."

Ironhide nodded. "He's so small."

Ratchet grinned faintly. "But he has a big mouth. Remember? I told you the other day."

"You did. Gets it from you," Ironhide said with a slight grin.

Ratchet smiled. "Probably," he said quietly.


	3. Part Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> see part one, continuous story

** Chapter 51 **

  
  


-0-Med Bay on a couch

They stared at each other as Ironhide's servos gripped Ratchet's arms to hold him as if he couldn't let go. He couldn't. He stared at Ratchet as all sorts of thoughts traveled through his processor.

/... **Oh, Primus!** I'm a genitor... what do I do now? this is so new. .../

Then he figured out what he had to do. He hugged Ratchet again. He held him like he was solid platinum. To Ironhide at that moment, Ratchet was.

"This is nice."

The voice behind him pierced the intensity of Ironhide's emotions as he look at the big smile and comforting presence of Optimus Prime. He grinned. "I'm a genitor. Ratchet sparked."

Prime's smile was impossibly big as the emotion of the moment overwhelmed nearly everyone. Prowl who was standing just behind Prime in the narrow corridor squeezed past to hug Ratchet holding him for a moment to savor the miracle.

They all knew it, the importance of this singular event and the change for all of them that it could signify. They might not go extinct now. There could be a future for their race because of this.

Ironhide smiled as the internal emotional storm subsided a bit. "A sparkling. The first one. Ours."

"I hope it is the start of more," Prime said gripping Ironhide's arm. "More children for Autobot City and our people."

Ironhide nodded. "I agree." He glanced at Prowl, then Prime with a grin. "So when can we expect yours?"

Prime laughed.

Prowl shook his head as a smirk formed on his face. "He laughs," Prowl said grinning slightly. "Now."

Prime looked at Prowl with a wary optic as Ironhide laughed. "Maybe we should give them the rule book, Ratchet."

Prowl grinned.

Prime didn't.

-0-Bluestreak and Sunstreaker

Sunstreaker sat beside Bluestreak during the operation, his shoulder leaning against Blue's thigh. Blue had rested his servo on Sunny's shoulder but he hadn't spoken to him, a record of some sorts for the usually babbling Praxian gunner. Sunny who was uncertain about what it meant stayed by him ignoring his own rules and discomfort regarding public displays of affection.

By the time the event was over and the team was flying back home, Blue was uneasy. He stood up to walk away, hurrying out the door with unsettled feelings. He walked past the throng of mechs who were relieved and had gathered together to discuss the battles that had taken place, wishing they were there to be a part of it.

Blue hurried to the Rec Room wondering which way to go.

Sunstreaker who was hurrying along behind him stopped at the door to watch Blue turn this way and that.

Blue spotted Sunny there, then walked to a table to sit. He rested his elbows on the surface, his wings raised high with tension.

Sunstreaker, hesitating, walked over to sit beside him, scooting his chair next to Blue. He slipped his arm around the back of Blue's chair and leaned in close. Around them talking with relief and professional interest in the outcome were other mechs who were oblivious to the drama between the two. More were drifting in to sit and wait for Silverbolt to return. "Bluestreak, we have to talk."

"What about, Sunny? About this … prank? Is this a prank because I’ve seen you two compete and I don’t like it a bit,” Blue said as the anxiety on his face matched that in his voice. He clasped his digits, staring at them, then Sunstreaker. "What do you **want** , Sunny?"

"I want to talk to you. About things," Sunstreaker stammered, internally sighing as the usual bumbling came upon him when it came to disclosure. It shouldn't be this hard. It wasn't just 'someone'. It was Bluestreak. "I'd like to talk to you about things some place else. This isn't a good place."

Blue looked around, then at Sunstreaker. "I don't mind."

Sunstreaker, thwarted, rubbed his face with a servo. "Blue, I was just reading a story that Sideswipe found on a website. People write stories about us. They make things up and they tell stuff that they like. It’s … its called fan fiction or something. It doesn't mean it applies to us. It's just for fun."

Blue looked at him a moment studying his expression, trying to gleam from his face what he really meant given their long history together, his understanding of the twins and their infernal competition and pranking. "Do you want a trine? You know what Prowl feels about tradition and stuff. I’m Praxian, too, Sunstreaker. It means something in Praxian families to have stable bonds."

Sunny sat back as confusion filled him. He felt the presence of Sideswipe in his processor, ever present even when he wasn't. "I don't know. I never thought about it until now. It was just you and me and I liked it. But you know how it is with Sideswipe and me, Bluestreak. I never hid from you how we're wired."

"Then you want a trine and this isn’t some kind of joke. You **want** a trine with Sideswipe." Bluestreak looked at him with unwavering optics.

"I didn't **say** that," Sunny said shaking his head in frustration. "You're reading things into this that I didn't say."

"Then **tell** me, Sunny, what you mean," Blue said leaning closer, imploring him with a soft pleading tone. "I don't know what you want."

"Not here, Blue," he said glancing around. "Some place else. We can talk there."

"And Sideswipe? What about him? Does he have a say? Should he be there, too?" Blue whispered.

Sunstreaker stared at Bluestreak with his processor clouded with confusion and astonishment that his life could hit such a skid so quickly.

Blue shook his head, rose, then leaned down toward Sunstreaker. "Let me know when you figure it out. I'm not another one of your fragging partners. I’m not going to be a **football** in a **game** between you and Sideswipe. **Hear** me on this, Sunstreaker." Then he hurried away toward Ops Center and Med Bay.

Sunstreaker watching him rush away felt an irritation filling him. Rising himself, he walked to the hangar door to wait for Silverbolt and the return of his brother.

-0-Sideswipe

He rolled off the plane watching the stretcher bearing Jazz disappear into the hangar door. He was revved and the aftermath of combat still clung to him. He traded quips with the mechs congregating around the jet, joining them a moment to kid and joke around. As he did he searched the crowd for Sunstreaker and Bluestreak. Neither of them were here.

Not a good sign.

The strangeness of Sunny's mood since he left the island was on his processor, a moody uncertainty that was hard to quantify. It floated to him over their link and he didn't know what to make of it. He rolled inside slapping servos and trading insults, heading toward the shared quarters that he had with Sunstreaker.

-0-Med Bay

First Aid took control of the patient, trading information with Ratchet until Ratchet felt that he could leave. Nearby, waiting stoically to all but Ratchet's trained optic, Ironhide leaned on the doorjamb. He wanted to leave. Prime and Prowl had left, the bantering more than delightful. Those two were prime subjects to learn the Tao of Prank Warfare from the masters and he made a mental note to enjoy the hilarity of Prime's predicament with Prowl the Relentless.

Ironhide watched Ratchet, his optics never leaving him. He didn't look different, just the same actually as Ironhide realized he didn't know a slagging thing about sparklings except that they were cute, Primus given and one would be his. He felt a swell of emotion filling him, the idea of a little mech looking up at him with tiny blue optics, expecting his genitor, him, Ironhide to move the stars and the moon for him.

He would.

He would try.

He would be the best genitor that ever lived and this sparkling would be the most loved sparkling that ever lived.

Ratchet turned to leave, a smile forming on his lips as he walked toward Ironhide who took his servo. They left Med Bay together.

First Aid watched them go. "Finally, you glitch heads." Then he turned back to his job again.

-0-Sideswipe

He entered the room to see Sunstreaker sitting on his berth with a foul expression on his face. "Sunny?"

Sunstreaker arose and spun to grab Sideswipe by the arms. Spinning again, he tossed Sideswipe toward the door, jumping after him as he crashed through it and out into the asphalt drive that ran through the underground facility and all its side roadways.

Sideswipe fell, skidding on his back a distance before Sunstreaker was on top of him pounding with his fists.

Shouts rang out, footfalls came running and still they wrestled.

Sideswipe blindsided, rallied then rolled Sunstreaker to pin his arms over his head. He straddled his brother struggling to hold him down. **"What the frag are you doing, Sunny?"** Sideswipe yelled just before Sunstreaker bucked his body throwing Sideswipe over his head and upside down into the wall across from their space.

It cracked as Sideswipe slid down landing in a heap. Rolling, he rose in time to meet Sunstreaker's headlong charge, the two twisting and turning this way and that as they tugged and pushed. The full fire of fury blazed on both their faces.

Ironhide and Ratchet who were walking together toward their quarters paused to take in the mayhem. Then Ironhide dropped Ratchet's servo to charge into the melee to grab each of the twins by their necks. He pulled them apart as the air filled with cursing and shouts, then held them fast. **"ENOUGH!"** he bellowed as he dropped Sideswipe to the ground. He then began to pull Sunstreaker away, tossing him to Kup and Springer who had come running at the sound of the fight.

Sideswipe jumped up to roll forward trying to get past Ironhide but the big mech pushed him back pointing a digit in the younger mech's face. "Enough," he said, his voice low and menacing.

Sunstreaker ceasing his struggling in the combined grasp of Kup and Springer glared at Sideswipe.

Ironhide turning from one to the other shook his head. "What’s the matter with you two? **You're brothers for Primus sake! Brothers!"**

It became quiet as the two glared at each other. They were held back from each other by imposing mechs standing between them. Neither spoke.

Sunstreaker then relaxed a bit, his eyes averted and his arms crossed in his fury.

Sideswipe wiping at a split lip that oozed energon stared at the floor. "I just walked into the room. He jumped me. I don't know what the frag he's mad at."

Sunstreaker glared at him. "Think about it a little, **Sideswipe**."

" **Frag you, Sunny,** " Sideswipe said hotly. "I don't know what the frag you're talking about, **so frag you."**

Sunstreaker jumped for Sideswipe as Kup and Springer moved to restrain him.

Ironhide stepping in front of Sideswipe looked at both of them, at the mechs gathered solemn faced and quiet and at Bluestreak who had just arrived stricken in expression.

He shoved Sideswipe back glaring at him. Then he walked to Sunstreaker moving him back with the intensity of his anger and clenched fists. "You're brothers. What would the rest of us give to say that? We are **one. All of us. One.** Today is the human's holiday. They call it Thanksgiving. They give thanks for what they have and for each other. Today is Thanksgiving." He looked at Ratchet who stood nearby watching him with emotional optics. The medico nodded as a slight smile formed on his lips.

Ironhide turned back to look at Sunstreaker, then Sideswipe. He shook his head. "Ratchet and I have good news and this day, Thanksgiving, is a perfect day to learn it. Ratchet is sparked."

The crowd was silent a moment, then murmurs arose out of the shock. Ironhide looked at Ratchet then the crowd. "We're going to witness a new birth of our people, the first sparkling to be born among us since before I can remember. How many of you have even **seen** one? Too many of you haven't. That's the shame of it, isn't it? The lasting sadness of war and homelessness makes us forget who and what we are. But now ... now we're on the edge of renewal. We have a new home, new allies and hope." He looked at the twins, both of them looking at him with unreadable expressions. "You're brothers. You're Autobots. We are **one**." He looked at Springer and Kup. "Throw them in the brig."

Kup nodded then gripped Sunstreaker's arm to pull him away. Sideswipe, his gaze lowered glanced at Bluestreak as he rolled past as Springer took hold of his arm. Then they were gone and the crowd silent and uncertain at last moved, walking forward to congratulate Ironhide and Ratchet.

Bluestreak looking wretched walked quietly toward the brig.

  
  


** Chapter 52 **

  
  


-0-Ironhide and Ratchet at the quarters

They sat on the couch relaxing from the excitement of the news and the unexpected blowout in the hallway. It was comfortable in the way it always was when they were alone together. When you could access everything with another, then there’s nothing left unsaid. That level of comfort and disclosure would make a human poke their eyes out but to the Cybertronian people, it was normal.

The thread that held them together no matter how hard the turmoil they were immersed in was the most permanent and binding commitment of their lives. The only thing that could sever it was death and now with an infant, they were winding another one into their own tapestry.

Ironhide was as contented a mech as it was possible to be. The hilarity of the prank war had born fruit and now he was going to be something he never felt he would ever be, given the life and circumstances in which he lived. He was going to be a father.

He thought of his own, his big old pa, Blackjack. He thought of his other father, the one who separated him, his Ada Alor. He remembered his grand genitors, several generations of them and he knew that they would love this baby as much as they loved him. He’d been raised in an ocean of love, in a family that doted on him almost to his detriment.

He remembered walking in tidal pools at the Sea of Mercury with his grandpa or appa, Raptor and his amma, Raptor’s bond, Turbine. He remembered all the lessons his Amma Turbine had given him about his culture and religion as an elder and Maker of the Elder Clan of Primus, the oldest clan known among their people. He remembered his Appa Hard Drive and Amma Delphi, the genitors of Appa Raptor. There was no thing he could even accidentally want that they wouldn’t try to find for him from the smallest pebble to the hardest and rarest toy for his box. He remembered his ada’s genitors and other relatives … Appa Trooper and Amma Scout, Auntie Lissie and Uncle Steiner. They taught him singing and dance, let him act out his little skits to their great delight and told him stories of The Beginning when the Pantheon lived directly among them.

He knew that they would be rapturously in love with this baby. He also knew that he couldn’t think of them without terrible suffering so he didn’t. He took Ratchet’s servo and squeezed it, feeling imminently better when he did.

Ratchet squeezed it back as he wandered down the familiar roads of family and home himself. Ironhide’s musings had bled over to him and they were of one mind on the infant … their elders would have loved him passionately.

He thought about his genitors, his atar, Tie Down and his ada, Ravel. They were as lovely as the day was long and to him they were the pantheon whose love made all things possible, the most self sacrificing, hardworking and decent mechs he knew. He thought about his grand genitors, his Appa Ratchet who he was named for, Ratchet’s bond, his lovely mini-con femme amma, Docker, Appa Chan and Amma Corr, all of whom he worshiped like the gods he felt them to be. They worked terrible low paying jobs to sacrifice their own well being to get him some little toy or treat even if it meant someone didn’t eat well for a while.

He was born in the projects and lived the tenement life all his orns until he was spotted as a potential gifted doctor and given a chance no one of his caste was ever allowed otherwise. Unless you had some value to the powers that be, you were locked into your place and there was no other hope for better or different.

He’d made it through the University, never giving up even when he wanted because when he came home four hopeful love filled faces greeted him, asking all about his orn and what he had learned. Their own yearnings and dreams for better and a good education would never be fulfilled but the life of sacrifice and effort that had led to his chance would be enough for them because it was all for him, their little Sonny.

It was a pain in his spark like the thrust of a sword to think about them normally but now it was worse. He stepped away from the gold tinged memories of his family, their little shop, RTR Tools that made museum quality weapons and tools through processes only they knew and leaned into Ironhide. “It’s a blessing and a curse isn’t it, Ironhide,” he said.

Ironhide lay his helm on Ratchet’s. “It is. They would’ve loved this moment, all of them.”

Ratchet nodded. “Then we’ll love it doubly for them. Okay?”

Ironhide quashed the emotions that threatened to spill over. “Okay,” he said as they sat together in their tiny quarters on a base in the middle of a great ocean on a planet that they hadn’t ever heard of a few years before in a solar system without much to recommend it on the far edge, the Orion Arm of a massive star and black hole conglomeration they called The Great Galaxy.

Or as the humans insisted … The Milky Way.

-0-Brig

"I would like to speak to Sunny, Red Alert," Bluestreak said pausing before the jailer who was sitting at his station watching the compound and beyond via numerous screens.

"I can't let you, Bluestreak. You'll need permission from the Officer of the Day."

"Who is that?" Blue asked shifting from foot to foot anxiously.

Red checked his screen. "It's still Prowl but shift is changing soon," he said.

Bluestreak nodded then hurried away.

=0=Ironhide and Ratchet

  
  


The sensation of tingling passed through his digits as Ironhide touched the tiny spark that hovered next to Ratchet’s. He removed his servo staring at the little spark trying to visualize it separated and alive, sitting on his hands, looking at him with the devotion only sparklings could have for a genitor. Ironhide tapped the catch and Ratchet's chamber closed, the light fading from the room but not from Ironhide's eyes.

He grinned. “Pretty cute.”

“He’s going to look just like you,” Ratchet said. “I have spoken.”

Ironhide laughed. “I can see it. Eventually.”

-0-In the Brig

Sideswipe sat on the bench that formed the berth for his cell, the shimmering energy bars that held him most of the illumination in the room. Sunstreaker sat on a bench next to him, the bars between them high enough energy to hurt if they decided to go at each other again.

They didn't.

They ignored each other.

For about a half a breem.

"You're a slagger," Sideswipe said turning his helm to glare at his brother. "Would you clue me in?"

"You want to be with Bluestreak."

There it was.

Out in the open.

Sideswipe schooled his face to impassivity, then he looked at Sunstreaker. "You're full of it."

"Am I?" Sunstreaker replied as he stared at Sideswipe critically. "Open the link wider and tell me that."

Sideswipe looked away with a shrug. "Whatever. Go ahead and believe whatever you want. You usually do."

"I'm right," Sunny said leaning back to rest his head against the wall. "You know I am. I know because I've felt it for a while."

"For the sake of **argument** ," Sideswipe said glancing at him with a critical optic. "What if that's true? So what? Bluestreak is lovable."

"He is."

It was silent a moment.

"Tell me what you want, Sideswipe," Sunny said looking at his brother with an expression that was hard to determine.

Sideswipe looked at him studying his brother's face and wondered if he dared. "You already know."

Sunny dropped his chin to his chest, shaking his head slightly. "I know," he replied.

-0-Ironhide and Ratchet late that night after dinner and laughs with the garrison

They lay together wrapped in each others arms. It was dark and quiet.

"Ratchet."

"Hm?"

"What do we do now?"

"Well, I behave myself and you're pardoned."

"Pardoned?"

"I declare the prank war over."

"But penalties and the treaty agreement..."

"Your words to those two miscreants paid any penalty that you owe, Ironhide."

It was silent a moment.

"I love you, Ratchet. I want you to know."

"I know, Ironhide. I love you, too."

Ironhide grinned. “Don’t tell anyone.”

Ratchet grinned. “I won’t.”

"What are we going to name him? We're still good for a mech?"

Ratchet nodded. "I wouldn't want anything else. I want it to look like you, with your pug nose and your finials. You have very attractive finials."

"I think your optics are the prettiest ever, Ratchet. I want it to have your optics and your build. You're sort of tall and gangling. I'm sort of not."

Ratchet snorted. "You're a bit robust but that's a good thing sometimes."

It was silent a moment.

"What do you suppose the younglings were fighting over?"

Ironhide shrugged. "I saw Bluestreak. He looked terrible. Maybe they're fighting over him, the glitch heads."

"I hope not. I like Bluestreak and Prowl will snap them in two," Ratchet said snuggling his helm into Ironhide's neck.

"He will."

-0-Prowl's office

"I just don't know."

Prowl regarded Bluestreak, inevitably seeing the injured hysterical infant that he and Ironhide had found wandering alone and dazed in the wasteland that had been their mutual home city. The bombing had been so intense that in all the confines of the city, under every searched boulder and fallen building Bluestreak was the only survivor found. One out of tens of thousands, even millions. All of that always flooded Prowl's processor whenever Blue was down. It was something he had never dealt with himself and even though he locked it away in his processor, Bluestreak was always the key.

He had clung to Prowl begging the Autobot to take him to his mother. Prowl had found what was left of her under a burned out building, the remains of his father nearby. Bluestreak had sat in shock, his little door wings burned in the fires lying flat on his back, his optics as large as manhole covers. He had gripped Prowl's servo and wouldn't let go.

Prowl had sheltered Blue as they waded out of the ash and water of his family’s home so that he couldn’t see the body parts of what had to be other relatives and maybe even siblings. It had been a hellscape of unimaginable proportions as they searched, Prowl for is family and Ironhide for his.

No matter where Prowl walked in the devastation, his own spark and that of Ironhide's crushed to nothingness over the devastation of their home town, Bluestreak had clung to him. Before the searching was over Prowl had taken him on as his own, getting full legal custody of the underage youngling to ensure he would have a chance to recover and find his footing in the world once more.

"What did they say to you?" Prowl asked as a frown formed on his face, the red of his chevron giving him a slightly menacing effect in combination.

"They really haven't ... at least Sideswipe hasn't. Sunny hasn't said he wants a trine but he also says he and Sideswipe are joined in a way that he can't describe. He said it was as if he was only half a mech without Sideswipe."

"What do **you** want? Do you **want** to be in a trine?" Prowl frowned deeper. His youngling wasn't meant to be in a trine, of that he was certain. Praxians didn’t hold to such things, at least not in the cosseted rarefied prison of his caste that had been his burden to escape all his life. His ambitions for Bluestreak's happiness didn't involve complicated convoluted combinations with split sparked mechs. Especially these two hoodlums. He felt his ire starting to build.

"I don't know. I love Sunny but they compete with each other and pull pranks. I don’t know what they’re up to, maybe its not the way it seems," Blue said in a soft voice as he looked at Prowl with miserable optics. "I know you don't approve."

"I don't," Prowl said shifting on the couch, looking at Blue more squarely. “But this is your decision.”

Blue stared at the floor, his expression miserable.

Prowl feeling miserable, too, pulled Bluestreak into his chassis holding him in his arms. He leaned his helm against Blue's, the young gunner melting into his embrace. "I'm sorry, Prowl. I'm sorry."

"Don't be, Blue," Prowl said as his expression settled into hard lines. " **You** don't have a thing to be worried about."

Blue on-lined his optics, blinking in understanding. "Oh," he said.

-0-Brig

It was silent.

Red Alert left duty as Kup took his place to sit at the monitors to watch the outside even as he kept an optic on the sulking duo in the cells behind him. He turned and regarded the two, a miracle of creation. They were precious to him, a couple of sparks after his own. Relaxing as he watched the outside, he thought back to the day he saw them, two pugnacious smart afts looking for some sport. By the time he got through with their first day as Autobots they almost were ready to cut their losses.

But they stayed and the Autobots were the better for it. That they stayed gave them a place, a purpose and the love of a lot of mechs who both admired and feared them, especially Sunny.

Kup wasn't afraid of the youngling. They loved him back, considering him a mentor, friend and father figure. He loved Sunny and he loved Sideswipe. This wasn't the first brig duty he’d done with them and it probably wouldn't be the last. He grinned. Sort of made the circle closed that way he thought. Sitting back to enjoy the sight of the two silently seething, Kup watched the night pass by quietly.

-0-Prime and Prowl

"And that's why I'm going to bash their heads together."

Prime watched as Prowl paced, his anger rolling off in waves. He sat back and enjoyed the show, the emotion on display nothing new to him. They had, after all, bonded and shared the throes of passion and other activities enough for him to know that Prowl had a lot of emotions. He just kept them under control. "What do you want me to do?" Prime asked, watching Prowl's wings quiver with agitation.

It was a pretty effect.

"Nothing right now," Prowl said. "I'm going to invoke genitor's rights with Bluestreak."

"And that means?" Prime asked with a slight smile on his face as a faded memory began to form around the words which were batted into law in the way distant past by genitors who had reached the end of their rope.

It happened.

"It means in Praxian Parental-Cultural law that they can't even speak to Bluestreak without me or my designated delegate present. I’ve already told Bluestreak and he understands my reasons and his duty as a Praxian. I think he agrees because he's confused about this whole mess given the prank and competitive history of these two.

“Being with Sunstreaker was what he wanted but the two of them? He knows my opinions on trines. It's not an Autobot thing."

"And why is that, Prowl? That it is not an Autobot thing?” Prime asked with a big grin.

Prowl stopped pacing to turn to him. “What do you mean?”

“I was thinking about the situation of Praxus and the Seeker Annihilation. There is also the general population idea that flying was a low status thing and no one had lower status than Seekers in our society. I was thinking about how sometimes you can confuse your emotions around difficult things and make conclusions that are not what one might do in other circumstances.”

“Do you think this is about Seekers?” Prowl asked with surprise.

“Is it? They favor trines, though I’ve seen pairs before. Nitro is bonded with a grounder,” Prime said.

Prowl stared at him and Prime could almost see the wheels turning as he examined his comments. Prowl who bled logic like some did energon wouldn’t be afraid to consider challenged assumptions especially from Prime. They had rousing conversations all the time. They both loved to see what the other truly thought. “Then if it was … that would be … prejudice, then.” He stared at Prime. “I know it was a real thing in my caste but ...”

“It could be, though given the circumstances it would take a lot not to harbor such things. I am not saying it is in this instance but it is a thought,” Prime said.

Prowl stared at him, then paced a second. “What about the idea that this is some kind of competition? What about the history of that between them?”

“We can ascertain that,” Prime said.

“I have a duty to Blue’s family, Optimus. They were Praxians. They would want Blue to have the best and I try to be that genitor, one who can do that for them. I owe them a lot for the honor of raising him. I want him to remember and honor them by our rules,” Prowl said.

“We will. Perhaps you need to study your feelings about trines. I have known many in them that were transformed by the emotional context they share. Perhaps it will be the making of the twins to have such a bond as Blue. After all, I can vouch for his main genitor,” Prime said.

Prowl stared at him, then grinned faintly. “You’re way too decent for a mech like me. I’ve put Machiavelli to shame before. Old stick up his aft Prowler.”

“Perhaps, but what would be the fun in a life without you in all your many facets?” Prime asked with a grin.

Prowl grinned back. “Well,” he said. “I’ll invoke. For Blue’s family, I will. I’m not mollified but I **will** do what Blue needs. I don’t like his uncertainty and confusion.” He looked at Prime with a slight smirk. " **I'm** upset," Prowl agreed. “Take that to the bank. Then he paused as a tough expression formed on his handsome face. "But I sure as the Pit am not confused."

Prime nodded before pulling the agitated Praxian into his lap. And for a while Prowl was neither agitated nor confused.

** Again. **

  
  


Chapter 53

  
  


-0-Brig

They were let out and a hearing was scheduled for the next day with Prime to decide their fate. Rolling down the hallway, silently moving side-by-side, the two had already put the hard emotional anger behind them. What they struggled with was the future. What would they do about Sideswipe's admitted attraction for Blue and Sunny's possessiveness. It was on their processors when they entered their quarters that had a new door already on its hinges.

The television was still on and the story that Sunstreaker had read onscreen unchanged. They stared at it, then as one sat. Sunstreaker pulled the datapad control up and ran through the list, both of them marveling at the number and variety of stories, kinks and combinations that were inferred about them through the imaginations of writers.

For about an hour they read with amazement suffusing them at the pairings they themselves were hooked up with in the minds of the writers. Ratchet was the most common one and he was paired with one or both of them. There was a story where Blue was sparked by Sunstreaker who was a total aft about it. Blue ended up with Wheeljack and all ended well.

Sunstreaker had another opinion about his reaction as Sideswipe sided with the author saying it was probably most likely how he would’ve acted and he liked the story a lot.

They nearly fought again.

They put in names and found very few of their colleagues that were known to the public left out of the fun. Prowl and Jazz was probably the most common pairing, a thing that caused both of them pause. Then there was even Optimus Prime and Megatron, something that made both of them agitated.

"That one is just wrong," Sideswipe said glancing at his brother. "It's almost as wrong as the ones posing Prime with Starscream."

"I'd slag Starscream for his voice alone," Sunny said glancing at his brother. "You ever 'faced a Seeker?"

"No. You?"

"No," Sunny said shaking his head. "But I hear it tastes just like chicken."

Sunny ducked Sideswipe's fist by inches. "How about Optimus Prime and Ironhide?" Sideswipe said pulling up a story.

The willies took a moment to process, then they looked at each other with a grin. "Let's," they said in unison.

And they did…

^,,^

"Two Moons over Cybertron, A Love Story"

A bit of the way into the story which in and of itself demonstrated the belief system of the writer:

Optimus was big, stoic and self denying. Ironhide was big, stoic and hot for Prime's bod. It went a bit like this ...

"Optimus looked at Ironhide, the big mech's form nearly as massive as his own. Ironhide had a flat nose that intrigued Optimus because his own nasal structure was more pronounced."

^,,^

"Is this a story or a medical journal?" Sunstreaker asked snorting with amusement. "Does Ironhide even **have** a nose? Who wrote this?"

"It's a story from Optimus_Sue. Isn't Sue a femme name?"

"Don't ask me," Sunstreaker replied leaning back to settle in for the story. "I have enough trouble with mechs to worry about femmes, too."

"Prime getting turned on by Ironhide's nose."

They both were silent a moment, then burst into laughter.

"Keep going, Sideswipe. Scroll it slowly."

They read on.

^,,^

"The moon rose over the Citadel as they stood together on the balcony. Inside the party went on but they weren't in the mood…"

^,,^

"So this isn't a 'facing story?" Sunny asked.

"No. I think they weren't in the mood for the party, not fragging. I **will** say the idea of fragging either of them sober isn't a turn on," Sideswipe said with a malicious grin.

"Scroll ahead. Get to the good stuff. That is, if there's any in this opus," Sunny said grabbing at the control.

Sideswipe elbowed him and scrolled, pausing at the 'good stuff'.

,,

"They swayed together, the moons of Cybertron casting a silvery light on the room. They had stumbled in falling together on the berth…"

^,,^

"Nice engineering. The floor held," Sideswipe said with a chuckle.

They pressed onward.

^,,^

"Optimus who was needy from a long life of self sacrifice, denial and the inadequacy of shower nozzles fell on the big mech, his fingers digging under Ironhide's plating, finding and touching delicate wiring and tubes."

^,,^

"Sounds like Prime is fixing his computer instead of fragging Ironhide," Sideswipe said laughing loudly.

Sunny snorted with amusement. "Keep scrolling. I want to see if they go all the way or not."

^,,^

"Open up for me, Ironhide," Prime growled as he slid his hand down to Ironhide's codpiece."

^,,^

"That sounds so bad when it's put this way," Sideswipe said staring down at his own codpiece. "Codpiece. Sounds like a fish dinner."

Sunny chuckled. "Do you see the part where they were kissing each other like there was no tomorrow. I'm trying to make that picture in my mind and I can't. I want to purge my tanks though."

Sideswipe smiled as they continued to read.

^,,^

"Optimus pushing Ironhide's legs apart lay down upon the big mech."

^,,^

"Big femme you mean," Sunny said with bitter laughter.

"Ironhide would ground you to dust," Sideswipe said looking at his brother.

"You're dreaming again," Sunny said continuing to read.

^,,^

"The prong clicked, oh Primus, then they surged, their sparks blending and falling into overload. They cried out each others names."

^,,^

" **Oh, Optimus!** **Lord** **Optimus, sir!** " Sideswipe said mimicking Ironhide.

" **Ironhide! You’re so tight! Oh please! Please!** " Sunny said grinning wickedly.

They both stopped, looked at each other, then burst into laughter.

Sideswipe slid down onto the floor to search the site for another story. "I don't know if I can look Prime in the face again."

"You better figure it out. We have a hearing tomorrow." Sunny shifted to settle down on the floor. "What are you going to tell him?"

"Nothing. I'll admit to fighting but the reason is my own," Sideswipe said.

Sunny nodded. "I think so."

-0-Morning in the rec room

A base wide announcement in Cybertronian was made that reached the Aerialbots and even Cosmos. It told of the good news of a sparking, then ordered that it be kept from the outside world for security and privacy reasons. The security included humans with curiosity and Decepticons with malice. It was given the level of a Prime directive, making breaking the order a personal affront to the honor of Prime in particular as well as Cybertron and the Autobot Armed Forces in general.

As the shifts changed, Sunstreaker and Sideswipe found themselves waiting in the corridor outside the conference room while the Senior Autobot daily meeting went on inside. Standing by stoically, they waited as people came and went, some of them nodding to them sympathetically and a couple here and there shaking their heads at the umpteenth time the two were facing Prime over their behavior.

Bluestreak coming around the corner on business halted, then hurried out of sight. They saw him and were tempted to follow but they couldn't. It would mean one more slam against them.

The meeting broke up with mechs leaving, most of them nodding good morning to the twins. Finally, Ironhide peering out called them inside. They entered and were directed to take a seat. They did, waiting stoically for the dance to begin. Ironhide, Prowl, and Prime were doing the honors.

"Well, it appears that you two were fighting rather violently I am told in the corridor and did damage to the area. I would like to know what you were doing and why," Optimus said leaning back for the story.

Again.

Prowl who was taking down the details didn't look up but his wings were up and trembling with tension.

Ironhide, himself feeling pretty mellow, watched the two younglings he’d helped train face the music yet again.

Sunny and Sideswipe looked at each other, then Sunny leaned forward on his elbows. "We were fighting. We have no defense and we're ready to take our punishment."

"Why were you fighting?" Prime asked.

"That's personal. It has no bearing on our fitness and willingness to fight or go on assignment. It was just a personal issue we're working out together," Sunny said leaning back in his chair to fold his arms over his chassis.

Sideswipe kept his eyes on the table avoiding Prime's gaze.

"Does this have anything to do with Bluestreak?" Prime asked.

Sunny glanced up sharply then lowered his gaze feigning nonchalance. "That's personal, sir. We don't wish to speak about it."

"Sideswipe?" Prime asked.

"Sideswipe looked up then nodded. "What Sunny said, sir."

Prime considered them both. "Part of this hearing is going to be a legal matter. Prowl as you might know is Bluestreak's legal adoptive guardian of record and has been since Blue was underaged. He has decided to invoke a Praxian law that is within his right as Bluestreak's legal guardian."

Prowl looked at them as he lay the datapad down. "I'm invoking parental rights as per Praxian Parental-Cultural Law, Declaration 19, Part 2."

"What does **that** mean?" Sunstreaker asked sitting up straighter in heightened concern.

Finally.

"It means, Sunstreaker, you can't be around Bluestreak without my permission, my presence or the presence of another person of my choosing. For any reason."

It was silent in the room as it settled in.

"That's slag." Sunny looked at Prime. "Bluestreak is an adult."

"According to Praxian law, a child is a child to a genitor for the duration of the life of the genitor. Praxian children, adult or otherwise, have a lot of personal rights just like you and I do as Cybertronians but they also have obligations to their genitors that are still law," Prime said withholding a grin with effort.

This was actually rich.

"Prowl isn't Bluestreak's actual genitor," Sideswipe said.

"Under Praxian law, Prowl has standing as the adoptive family member," Ironhide said. "I know we weren't Iacon who basically didn't give a frag about this sort of thing but our laws were our own, they’re ancient and they were designed to preserve the integrity of families. My own sparkling will have full rights as an adult but if I feel that anything is going to harm him I can invoke this law to protect him whether he likes it or not."

"But this isn't Praxus. This isn't Cybertron," Sunny said looking from Prime to Prowl to Ironhide and back to Prime with gathering astonishment.

"Our law is law here, too, Sunstreaker," Prime said. "Prowl is within his parental rights to protect his sparkling, youngling or adult mech or femme if he feels that they are in harms way."

"But Bluestreak **isn't**." Sunny looked at them incredulously. "Blue is as safe with me as he could be anywhere.

"And asking him to be in a trine is a good idea?" Prowl asked with irritation in his soft words. "I don't have it in my thinking for Blue's happiness to be pressured into something like that if he doesn't want it."

"No one is **asking** , no one is **pressuring** ," Sunstreaker replied.

"Then tell me something," Prowl asked looking at Sideswipe. "Are you in love with my son?"

Sideswipe looked at the mechs in the room in silence.

  
  


** Chapter 54 **

  
  


-0-Hearing, Disciplinary Action: Sideswipe/Sunstreaker

"Then tell me something," Prowl asked as he looked at Sideswipe. "Are you in love with my son?"

Sideswipe looked at the mechs in the room with pained emotion. It was so still he could hear the sound of their own internal systems working as the optics of everyone in the room staring at him nearly unnerved him. He nodded slightly, lowering his own as Sunny shifted in his chair, shaking his head with aggravation.

"Well," Prowl said as leaned back with a sour expression on his face. He shook his head. "For the sake of argument, Bluestreak told me that this might be because you're both twins. I would entertain more information."

Sideswipe glanced up to catch Prime's gaze. It was sympathetic and attentive, waiting for them to tell their side of things. It was his glory, Sideswipe thought, Prime's decent fairness. He glanced at Sunstreaker, then sat back uncomfortably. "We're joined, half and half make the whole. What he feels, I feel. And the same is for him as it is for me. It helps us win in battle and it helps us find each other when we get separated. I'm his mirror and he's mine. Mostly."

"So you're not even really in love with Bluestreak. You just feel what Sunstreaker feels," Prowl said as his frown deepened.

Sideswipe glanced sharply at him then shook his head. "No. Its not like that. He's loved other mechs and so have I but we didn't cross over like that. I felt nothing for them. But I do for Bluestreak because he's lovable. Totally lovable."

"He is," Prowl agreed. "And he's a special case. He lost his family and half his processor in the worst possible way. He spent 600 years with Rung going over his psyche, trying to put the idea of his mother's energon all over his face into some kind of halfway decent form. He's spent his childhood in the army fighting in a war that destroyed his life. He's not the same as a youngling growing up in a normal life. He's vulnerable."

"We know," Sunstreaker said looking up to fix Prowl with a sharp expression of emotion. "We'd never hurt Bluestreak. We love him." He leaned back, his disquiet with personal disclosure of any kind let alone in the presence of others showing in his irritated posture and manner.

Prowl sat back again, tossing the stylus he had worried in his hand onto the table. He looked at Prime. "What a mess."

Prime looked at the twins, then Ironhide who raised his optic ridges and offered nothing more. Then he looked at Prowl. "This is your son. You have registered a formal complaint according to Praxian law. What do you want to do, Prowl? I do not have standing in this beyond a review for appeal hearing and one so far has not been offered."

Prowl looked at Prime as his wings drooped slightly. He considered his options, the painful conversation he’d with Bluestreak before the meeting and his underlying angst that his son was involved with one let alone the possibility of two of the biggest pains in his aft in all the Autobot Armed Services. "I want the complaint to stand. I want them to prove to me, because I … because Bluestreak has interests in this that have weight and might mean more than my fears for him, they should prove to me that they aren't going to do wrong or be hurtful for him.” He looked at them with a dark expressions. “This isn’t one of your many pranks is it? Stringing him along?”

Both of them tensed as they sat up straighter. “No,” Sideswipe said as Sunny nodded. “Its not that, Prowl. Believe me.”

Prowl stared at them, then made up his processor. “I want them to follow our law to the letter." He looked at the twins with a slight grin. "Lucky **you** to love a Praxian. Bluestreak is Praxian so he **has** to follow the rule. His family **would insist** as well if they hadn't been obliterated in front of him as a child."

"Which means?" Sunny asked.

"It means, Sunstreaker and Sideswipe, that you can't even be in the same room with Bluestreak unless I'm there or my designated representative. You can't speak with Bluestreak unless those conditions are met even if you pass in the corridor. If you see Bluestreak and they aren't met you have to turn around and leave. It's up to you to prove to me that you have Blue's best interests at spark even when you're off line. And I **will tell you** , I'm not convinced you do. This is my son and our cultural expectations as strange as they might seem to you mean something to us. They would mean the same thing to Blue’s family if they were alive and you would have to follow them as well. It might not be Cybertron but its the law. Do you understand?"

They nodded.

"You understand that if you break any part of this you'll be in the brig. It's binding Cybertronian law, carries the full force of it and there will be penalties of brig time if you do." Prowl looked at both of them.

They nodded albeit reluctantly.

"How do we get to see Bluestreak?" Sideswipe asked.

"You have to ask me or my designated representative if they're available and then it can be arranged. You have to be in audio and visual range of me or my representative the entire time or no dice. Oh," he said with a slight grin. “No touching of any kind.”

They looked at Prowl with varying emotions on their handsome faces, then finally nodded.

Sunny glanced at Prime who was watching with a neutral expression. "Then who is your designated rep?"

"The only other Praxian on base. Ironhide."

They both glanced at Ironhide. He sat looking back. Then he grinned.

"Slag," Sunstreaker said glancing at his brother.

Sideswipe nodded.

-0-Ops Center

They stood around the big table in the middle of Ops Center where information and datapads littered the top of it as they began to piece the puzzle together. The emails that they’d detected from the Intel-Martin servers were analyzed and the information gleaned showed that Starscream was using an anonymous account to find out intel from the company and its employees through a listserv called First-Strike-Warriors. They also tracked him to other lists and emailing groups, all of them elite and exclusive.

They also concluded that Starscream was using dormant or criminal bank accounts to finance his rise in that shady side of the world. Criminals and thieves who couldn't contact police were losing their ill gotten funds and a few bankers here and there were losing their lives in 'mysterious' violent deaths tied to disgruntled clients.

Jazz released from Med Bay was standing beside Mirage going over the diagram that they were building. "He has his tentacles in a lot of legitimate pies," he said grinning at Mirage. "Won't they be surprised to find out that they're schmoozin' with a 'Con."

Mirage smiled with a certain malicious disdain. "You can't buy class, Jazz. You either have it or you don't."

"Do I?" he asked smiling at the complex figure beside him.

"Do you have to ask?" he said arching an optical ridge as he squeezed Jazz' arm.

Jazz smirked. "I think we have enough here to turn the tables."

"I agree," Mirage said with his own smirk. "Time to make Starscream live up to his designation."

-0-Prowl

He paced in his office, the hearing ending in the way he felt it probably would when he had finished talking to Bluestreak just before. He’d come to Prowl's office uncertain, concerned about being trouble and concerned over the twins' fate as the ghost of old times resurrected itself in his processor. They sat down and Prowl had explained the law, telling Bluestreak he wanted his cooperation on the conditions of it because he was going to enforce it anyway.

Blue had nodded tensely.

"I don't do this to hurt you, Bluestreak. I do it to protect you," Prowl said hugging the youngster to his chassis.

Bluestreak hugged him back. "I know. I just hate all of the turmoil and Sunny being mad and Sideswipe is really a nice mech and Sunny seems to think that this is a thing we all three need to discuss."

Prowl listened a moment as Blue's unfortunate tendency to rattle on, filling space with words became more pronounced when upset. He sat back then affixed Blue with a firm expression, one he used on many a bad night in a place far away when the demons came over the kid. "I'm doing this so there won't be pressure while everyone thinks this out. You know the conditions, right?"

Bluestreak nodded. "My best friend's genitor had to do this with their oldest youngling when he fell in love with an older mech and they didn't think it would work out so I know I can't be around them without a guardian or you present."

"How did that time work out? Do you remember?" Prowl asked.

"He didn't see that mech anymore. His genitors wouldn't relent and let the complaint drop so they couldn't be with each other. It was sad and I remember a lot of yelling coming from next door."

"Did he obey the rules?" Prowl asked.

"He did," Bluestreak said simply.

"I expect you to do the same," Prowl said feeling a tiny pinch of relief at Bluestreak's nod. "I don't want you to enter into something without being sure. I want you safe and happy. Your family would want you to be Praxian and observe their culture as much as I do. We're Praxian, Blue, even if we never go home again. That's what this is all about, remembering what’s important."

"I know. I love you so much. You saved me when there was no one left. But I hope you know that Sunny loves me and wouldn't let anyone or anything hurt me. He was going to beat up the mercs that time they ..." Bluestreak stopped as he looked at Prowl with big optics.

"What time?" Prowl asked, his optics narrowing.

Blue told him.

A short time later ...

He paced his office angry at the entire world. He would be calm enough later but he was seething now. First, the trine business with the twins. Then the mercs interfering with Bluestreak at the firing range. Prowl wasn't surprised Blue hadn't told him but it rankled. His son was his and he was devoted to him, as devoted to Bluestreak as he was with Optimus and the Autobot Cause.

No one and no **THING** would harm Blue ever again. Images of a small terrified little mech covered in his mother's energon crying and wandering helplessly alone in the wasteland that once was their home, serious injuries of his own evident, came into Prowl's processor. He felt the sickened feelings again as he filed them away with effort. He stilled his processor, taking control of his emotions, beginning relaxation techniques so he wouldn't put a servo through the wall.

At last calming, he looked at his desk. Bluestreak was going to be fine he told himself. Bluestreak would decide for himself if he wanted to be with Sunstreaker and Sideswipe but Prowl would be there with his conditions and his fists if necessary.

Moving to his desk, he sat and began to make the world turn.

-0-Med Bay

Ratchet sat in his office with reports stacked to the side, physical exams scheduled and the like undisturbed. He was reading up on sparklings and carrier health issues. Wheeljack and Perceptor were coming in the later afternoon and they would discuss protoform designs. Ironhide would be there then. Right now, he was helping lambaste the twins' afts in the meeting he’d just left.

He leaned back remembering his incredulity when Ironhide explained the 'Parental-Cultural Law, Declaration 19, Section 2'.

"That kind of law **exists**?" he had asked.

Ironhide who was massaging Ratchet's peds because the article he’d read somewhere about carriers indicated that this would help their energon circulation nodded. "It keeps families from going to the Pit. No mech or femme can object no matter if they want to because genitors and family have an overriding interest in their welfare no matter how old they are."

"What about abuse, Ironhide," Ratchet said moving his other ped within reach of Ironhide's until now unknown talented servos.

"Its very rare, Ratchet. I only remember seeing it happen twice, once to a relative. They were going to get into trouble and their genitors put an end to it. Mostly its through negotiation and then there's the chance for the youngling to see their 'true love' through a different perspective."

"The guardians and parents."

"Yep."

"Would you do that to our sparkling? When they're an adult?"

"Yep."

[Silence]

"Good." Ratchet grinned at the big lug rubbing his peds.

Ironhide smiled back. Life was good in his world.

-0-Sideswipe and Sunstreaker

They stood on the tarmac watching the troops moving toward Silverbolt and a routine patrol in Australia. Bluestreak going along as the shooter looked at them as he walked past. He smiled weakly, his wings drooping low on his back. They nodded, their expressions filled with longing and sadness.

The troops loaded and Silverbolt lifted off heading into the sky and lands faraway. The twins headed back into the building.

  
  


** Chapter 55 **

  
  


-0-At Autobot City, Mars

Sideswipe helped pull heavy equipment out of boxes. They were from Earth, gathered together at the order of Prime and smuggled over the months into the compound ostensibly as energon production equipment, parts for medical purposes and Aerialbot components. The Autobots also said they were gathering together materials to make shuttles that would take passengers to the Oort Field, allowing at some unspecified future date that human scientists could see what lay beyond Pluto at last.

All of it was true.

Technically, their constructions would allow all of it. Cosmos had been bringing loads from Autobot outposts and temporary camps all over their part of the Alpha Quadrant since the message went out. He would off load at Diego Garcia every few days for nearly a year. To get all of it to Mars without raising eyebrows, they were loading mechs with the stuff, covering them with tarps, then having them drive onto Cosmos and Sky Dive who had assumed a shuttle form to help with the transfer from Earth to Mars.

Once the loaded alt vehicles were on board, the shuttles would take off flying straight to a landing zone near Autobot City that was swept free of the thick dust that covered every thing. A road led to the settlement which was growing in shape and size every day. From the shuttle port, a long dirt road led to the entrance of Autobot City.

It was a big structure, mostly underground at the moment but designed to be defensible. Gun turrets were being constructed, built to the specifications of Wheeljack and the other engineers. Materials found elsewhere, some by their network allowed them to mix alloys that created hardened materials equal to those they used themselves or remembered from Cybertron. Many were the bots who knew a lot about metals but it would be a celebration orn when a master of metallurgy showed up. Ratchet with his family background was and was consulted by those who covered that part of their situation.

They were bolstering the walls of the facility, laying miles of cables and wiring it to be hospitable. Until they built above ground they would be living underground here as well. There would be no windows but there would be lots of illumination. A series of solar constructions were already allowing them to work through the night and underground.

Med Bay, large and filled with the requisite rooms was being wired. Three levels below and to one side they’d built a hardened armory and gun room. The Ops Center was next to the entrance, also underground for now and was almost complete.

Sideswipe worked quietly, his processor puzzling on their dilemma as he did. They’d asked if they could take Bluestreak for a walk on the beach in the evening the next day and it had been granted. Ironhide would go along with them and he had veto power over anything they did while together. He was nervous and irritated but there was nothing they could do. Even if Bluestreak didn't want to go along with the complaint and he didn't know if Blue did or not, Prowl could still enforce it. They were applying Cybertron's laws and Prime was enforcing them. That part of his homesickness he could do without he thought as he hoisted a server onto a trailer.

-0-Australia

They drove silently down Peninsula Development Road 81 north of Lakeland in Queensland. They constituted a small convoy of trucks and vehicles, Bluestreak included. His alt vehicle form was a 2017 model Nissan 370Z convertible bringing up the rear. Ahead of him, Arcee in an SUV mode ala Range Rover rode by herself following Warpath who had arrived a week prior with Huffer and Grapple who were coming to work and live at Autobot City. He’d chosen a Hummer as tough enough and "pretty" enough for his alt mode. Bluestreak had forgotten how vain Warpath was but when he was hanging out with Kup and Springer he was good company, loud and full of it. A more outgoing Sunstreaker he thought wistfully.

Leading the group was Springer, his green and yellow Top Kick pickup truck at home in the farming area they were passing through. There was Decepticon activity reported south of Lakeland so they were going to scout it out. Nothing was too specific in the intel, just a lot of flashing lights in the sky that were moving too fast and when they weren't moving, hovering.

Bluestreak opened his sensors to the limit as he followed, watching and listening for anything, pushing his personal predicament out of his processor as he concentrated, turning from mixed up lover to warrior without much effort at all.

-0-Ops Center, Diego Garcia

Prowl watched the screen that tracked the team from space. Teletraan II's satellites were fixed on the convoy following it kilometer by kilometer. The intel was sketchy but sounded like Seekers. They were hovering over a place called Palmer River Goldfields Resource Reserve, coming at night, making the local population as well as the national government nervous.

Sending a team down to look around and scan for anything that might indicate Decepticon presence was the first step. Their allies were squeezing sources. That was step two. Jazz rising to walk to him with a smile was step three.

"He made the send," Jazz said turning to look at the sensor screen. "I wonder how long it'll take for them to get there?"

"I don't think long. Best alert the Aerialbots that are here. I'll message Springer and Silverbolt," Prowl said glancing over his shoulder as Optimus walked onto the command deck.

Optimus made his way to Prowl pausing beside him. "What's the word, Prowl?"

"He sent a message and we have a spider bot tracing it. Ghosting it, actually. We want to know all the routes it takes before it reaches Starscream. The 'lights' should appear at sundown on cue. I've sent the Aerialbots to support the ground team."

"Good," Optimus said. He put his servo on Prowl's shoulder. "You did not have to send Blue," he said softly, leaning closer to Prowl to whisper.

Prowl looked up at him with a slight tension in his wings evident. "I can't play favorites."

"You never do," Optimus said gently.

Jazz came back holding a datapad. "The bot made it to an account that Screamer uses to post on First_Strike. He's aware that the team's out there and that Springer's part of it. It's also going to two others." Jazz showed the datapad to Prowl and Optimus. They read it and their expressions were grim.

"I am not surprised," Optimus said.

"Neither am I," Prowl answered.

-0-Nearing the Goldfield Reserve

They drove through very dry rocky country with stands of trees here and there bordering creeks that wend their way through gullies and low lying areas. It was warm but not excruciating like it was beginning in December. Temperatures could reach 110 degrees F during the Australian summer. It was actually rather decent and the soldiers on board the trucks were glad of it.

They reached campgrounds where the roads became problematic for Bluestreak in auto format. Pulling off under a stand of trees with a creek ambling through, they transformed and huddled down as the sun set on the horizon. It was cooling as the breeze dropped off. Springer looking at the sky calculated the time before dark. He sat down in the shelter and cover of the trees watching out for soldiers as he did.

Epps settling his men turned to him. "You figure they'll show themselves?"

"Hard to say what Decepticons will do," Springer said thoughtfully. "They aren't especially bright."

Epps chuckled as he watched Bluestreak pull his rifle out of subspace, something that never grew old to the human.

Blue moved to the edge of the trees to take watch. Apparently Springer had told him over their internal comm system. He envied that, direct access among the troops. He regarded Springer. "I hear you're a Wrecker."

"I am," Springer said glancing at Epps with his calm blue optics. He’d heard good things and what he'd seen himself had borne them out. Epps was a good soldier.

"I hear its 'One Riot, One Wrecker'. Wreck 'N Rule," Epps began as Springer turned to look down at him. "What does your team do? Are you special ops?"

"That may be putting too fine a point on it," Springer replied with a grin. "If you had a job that was suicidal but necessary you sent us. If you had bad mechs who had to go you sent us. The impossible was what we did all the time."

"Kup mentioned something called Operation: Volcano," Epps said settling in.

Springer nodded. "That was when we were going to retake Cybertron. The plan was to kill the top ten Decepticon assassins before the offensive. Megatron recalled them so that was aborted but that was the mission goal."

"That meant high casualties for both sides, right?" Epps said gently.

"Sure," Springer said looking up at the sky. "You don't become a Wrecker because you worry about that. Our job was to go to worlds the 'Cons had just about conquered and give them huge casualties before they sealed the deal. We were a blade at their throats, cutting and making it expensive."

"Springer."

He glanced at Bluestreak who was looking up, his rifle in servo. "I see lights."

They shifted themselves, moving farther back in the shadows.

Arcee crouched beside Epps, her gun in servo. He glanced at her, this lone femme and wondered what it would be like to be such a minority. He’d felt it in the course of his life but there had been other black men as well as women always there. She was a minute fraction of their population, the norm being Ratchet and Ironhide, not Ratchet and Arcee. It was strange, he thought, as he got his rifle ready. How lonely would that be for anyone, anywhere?

The scrub brush that covered the ground offered no cover. The tree-lined creek they huddled at and two others farther out was it. Above them, the sound of jets could be heard and lights began to streak. They watched armed and ready as the light show continued.

-0-Ops Center

"I've buried a trace on their comm devices," Jazz said pointing on a screen the activity that the mole and his confederates were making as they communicated together.

Optimus nodded.

"We have sightings," Prowl said turning from Teletraan II. "Springer has visual contact. Seekers."

"Tell them to watch and I give Springer freedom to act as the situation calls. The Aerialbots. When will they be nearby?" Optimus asked as he sat down in a chair at the main sensor array next to Sunstreaker who was operations officer for the shift.

"They will be there in about two breems," Prowl said.

"Very well," Optimus said opening the comm line allowing the sound of the engines and soft cross talk among the team to fill the facility.

-0-Med Bay

Ratchet halted to listen to the sound of the patrol team, the sound of jet thrusters, then walked to the door to look down the corridor. The Autobots off duty were moving toward the Rec Room congregating to listen once more to the latest interaction. He walked toward the Rec Room himself, passing First Aid going the other way. They nodded, continuing onward and as Ratchet reached Ops Center he met up with Ironhide. They entered together and walked to the command center where Optimus was sitting. They stood by offering their skills as the moment needed and listened as the patrol interdicted the enemy.

-0-Autobot City, Mars

They sat together taking an energon break when the news reached them. The feed was available so they commed it on listening to the whispers and the sound of jets swooping nearby.

Sideswipe listened, then he heard Bluestreak's whisper, talking to Springer about the overhead view. His spark squeezed as he sat up straighter to listen harder.

-0-Australia

The lights began to drop lower as three of them landed. Two more stayed overhead flying seemingly aimlessly.

:Springer to Prowl:

:Prowl:

:How long until the Aerialbots get here?:

:One and a half breems:

Springer considered that, then looked at Warpath and Bluestreak as Arcee moved closer to his side. "I don't know what they're doing but the Aerialbots will be here in a breem and a half. They'll engage the ones still in the air. We'll engage the ones on the ground." Springer looked at Bluestreak. "Cover me, Blue. I'm getting closer. That creek ahead. I'm going to the trees."

Blue nodded moving closer as he focused his rife on the trees ahead. Springer moving with great agility and silence for a figure twenty-five feet tall cleared the distance in seconds, fading into the trees. Beyond him, lights blinked and something moved.

Epps with rifle in hand looked up at Arcee. She was watching Springer, peering through the darkness to where he was hunched down moving slowly through the trees to the edge closest to the 'Cons. "What do you see, Arcee?"

"Springer is getting close. He'll be at the edge of the trees in nanokliks," she whispered. "They appear to be moving towards us." She looked at him. "Stay in these trees unless you have to move out. Fall back if you have to. Don't try to engage. These mechs are out of your league." She paused as if listening, then looked down at him. "I have to go." She rose moving silently across the scrubby ground toward Springer.

-0-Autobot City, Mars

Sideswipe listened riveted by the silence and glad for Bluestreak that Arcee and Springer were there. They were phenomenal soldiers and Blue would be safer with them.

-0-Ops Center, Diego Garcia

Sunstreaker managed the data downloads from Teletraan's satellites. They were tracking the Seekers and it was being fed to the ground team and to Autobot City where the defense computers in the Command Center were being on-lined for the first time. They were also sending to the N.E.S.T. HQ, sharing information as usual. He thought about Bluestreak and the others. He wanted to be there but if he couldn't then it was good that Arcee and Springer were.

Prowl with his wings reflecting his tension listened as all hell broke out.

  
  


** Chapter 56 **

  
  


-0-Australia

The shooting was continuous. So was the cursing. Prowl listened with an icy servo gripping his spark. He heard Blue's voice calling out to Springer. Screaming out to Springer would be more accurate, then shooting and the sound of someone running very fast, then stopping to shoot again.

The sound of jets revving, the sound of them screaming in for the kill reverberated throughout the facility as everyone was rooted to the spot listening to it. In the N.E.S.T. HQ it was no different. Those on duty worked with the same urgent efficiency, their voices as calm and professional. They sent and received information, the Autobot's live visual feed filling the screens. Night vision views of the battle danced across their screens, too, an innovation for this mission.

Colonel Fulton running the show from his HQ looked with the same tension at the event on the screens before him as Optimus Prime did in his.

-0-On the ground

They came down from above, diving quickly while laying down fire between Springer, Arcee and the others. Blue stepping out of the trees fired up, catching the Seeker with two well placed shots. Smoke and flame burst out of its undercarriage as it zoomed off to disappear into the darkness. Stepping back, Blue hunkered down watching ahead as it was silent a moment.

Then shots were fired from Springer's position and the sound of something big running toward them was heard.

Blue rose glancing down at the soldiers. "Don't come, Robert. This will be bad." Then he ran forward heading toward the trees following Warpath who was already ahead of him.

In Ops Center they listened as fear gripped Prowl with icy digits. He looked at two of the visuals, the jerking images indicating Blue and Warpath running. They heard the shouting, picking out the voices among the noise of shooting, the strafing of a Seeker and then it was quiet again.

The four views shown on split screens were looking around, the visuals darting back and forth. Then Springer's saw a huge black shape and he moved away firing as he went. There was a null blast and his screen went black. Arcee moving toward Springer, shooting as she went glitched and went black as well.

Blue's voice yelled their names and there was shooting, his visual feed showing things moving too fast to make out. A blur of colors and shapes rose swiftly away as Blue ran, the muzzle fire of his weapon flashing ahead of him, then upward. He paused to hear Warpath shouting, then began to run toward him.

It was dark as the Seekers were leaving, the sound of their jets becoming less pronounced, more far away even as the soldiers poured fire after them.

Blue's visual reached Warpath as the soldiers arrived at the same time. He was down, his wounded leg flashing past on the screen as Blue looked at it, then back up to him.

Warpath was cursing and looking up at the sky, his weapon still trained on it. "Where's Arcee? **Arcee! Springer!"** He called to them but no one answered.

Blue looked all around them, his weapon following his point of view as he cast about seeing and sensing no one. The Seekers were gone. So was Arcee and Springer. The churned up ground around them offered nothing. Overhead, the sound of jets could be heard as Blue stood in the middle of the open space pointing his rifle upward. **"Move! Move to the trees!"** he shouted stepping forward to fight.

" **Blue!** Aerialbots," Warpath said before laying back as pain overtook his spirit at last.

The sound of Aerialbots landing then hurrying toward them was music to Prowl's ears. "Prowl to Bluestreak."

"Bluestreak, Prowl." Blue sounded jerky. He was running toward the last position he could remember seeing Arcee and Springer. He looked and saw nothing but churned up soil and broken trees. There was no energon and there were no Autobots. "Prowl, I can't find them. Arcee and Springer. They're gone."

Prime listening grimly glanced at Prowl.

Prowl walked to Teletraan II. He bent over it, working on something for a moment, then looked at Prime. "I lost their signal in the Oort Field."

Prime nodded. "Get the team back here."

Ratchet and Ironhide staring at the sensor screen glanced at each other. The Oort Field was a very, very big place.

-0-California

He sat parked in front of the house, trunk open and engine idling. Inside the house, Sam and his family were finishing up their evacuation. Sam had deposited baggage in his trunk and Bee closed it to open a door for Sam and his dogs. His mom and dad after locking the dark house ran forward to climb into the Camaro. Settling back, doors closing, Bumblebee pulled out to move off into the early morning gloom for Vandenburg Air Force Base and a C-17 ride to Diego Garcia as per orders from Prime.

They hadn't argued, understanding that this was their life now. They even had bags packed against just such an eventuality. So with a quick run through of their house they were ready to go within ten minutes of the alarm. N.E.S.T. officials would take care of everything as long as they were gone.

Bumblebee, his sensor net cast wide rolled out onto the freeway as the early morning commuter traffic beginning to pick up. Behind him in a new alt mode Barricade followed. He was a Mercedes Benz, a nice powerful sedan, he considered. He could move up and get close, perhaps ram the little Autobot mini-con and have some mayhem before finishing him off. He, however, hadn't figured on morning traffic. All his efforts to move up on Bumblebee were thwarted by the kamikaze drivers of Southern California, road warriors in their own right.

By the time the Autobot reached the base entrance it was too late to plant Bee upside down in the ditch again. Barricade rolled past slowly, watching as Bumblebee cleared the gates and his prey, the AllSpark **AND** Bumblebee slipped away.

Again.

He rolled away fuming.

Again.

-0-Autobot City, Mars

It was silent in the Rec Room as the crew sat listening to the mission. Arcee and Springer were missing, presumably taken by the Seekers. Warpath was injured and Bluestreak was intact giving cover for the Aerialbots and the evacuation.

Sideswipe listened with tension informing every rivet. When the Aerialbots signaled that they were taking off he relaxed only then. He tossed his energon into the receptacle by the door, glancing at Huffer and Wheeljack. "This is going to be bad."

They nodded, stunned at the development as well.

-0-In the Oort Field

They were dumped unceremoniously into two cells, each of them charged with bars of energy designed to pacify the inhabitants. Where they were they didn't know and they couldn't alert Earth because the 'Cons had disabled their internal communications. They feigned unconsciousness and listened more than aware of the precarious position they were both in.

They could hear heavy treads.

Seekers.

Then a distinctive voice spoke. "You did well, Thundercracker. You got one more than I expected."

"It was fortuitous considering the damage we took," he replied.

"But worth the effort. Not only did we get Prime's bond, we got his youngling femme as well," Starscream said, his pleasure only exceeded by the leverage he’d just acquired over the Autobot leader who haunted his dreams and thwarted his ambitions. "We need to wait and see what they do before we contact them."

"And these two?" Thundercracker asked.

"They are not to be molested or harmed in any way. Until we see what Prime is willing to do to get his bond back, we want them in good condition."

With that, they walked away.

Springer lay a long time on the floor before on-lining his optics. A cursory examination located the surveillance system and he shifted slightly to peer at Arcee. She lay still as well. He hissed softly watching as her optics opened slightly. "Arcee."

"Springer."

"Don't move. They're watching."

"What now?" she asked.

"We wait," Springer replied off-lining his optics once more.

-0-Daniels

He sat by his computer, a heavily encrypted device provided by the computer geniuses at Intel-Martin and read the news. Their contact, High Flyer was giving them the word. They had captured two Autobots. But not just any Autobots. These two were targets of high value apparently. He sat back digesting the news. Nast and High Flyer, a billionaire who wished to remain anonymous even as he assisted them with funds and intel were discussing the event that had just transpired. Seekers had taken two Autobots, the ones designated Springer and Arcee. It had been a shoot out and even though there were minor casualties on both sides no one had died.

He looked at the screen. Another email had pinged. It was from High Flyer. He opened it and read the message…

^,,^

_"I have been informed that the Autobots taken have more than just the usual value to the Prime. The Autobots taken were family. Springer is his bond and Arcee his femme, his daughter. I will try to get more information from my sources. Stand by. -High Flyer"_

_^,,^_

  
  


** Chapter 57 **

  
  


-0-Ops Center, the next morning

"They're here, sir," Red Alert said turning to look back at Optimus who was sitting at the center of the command deck going over the next step for the recovery of their people and the push back of the Decepticons.

He looked up and nodded, glancing at Prowl and Ironhide. The three rose to walk out the door to the flight line where Intel-Martin had landed their jet. They were coming to get the dead and the injured. They were also here to size up the opposition. The opposition was also here to size them up as well.

-0-Near the Autobot HQ

The day was warm, in the 70's with a light breeze. Prime walked out of the complex with Prowl and Ironhide by his side. They walked across the tarmac to the jet waiting off the main runway. It was emblazoned with the logo of Intel-Martin and was dispatched to carry the bodies of the two men who had lost the game of chicken with Ironhide as well as the survivor.

Three ambulances were pulling up as they reached a respectful distance, medics and orderlies hopping out to walk to the back to unload the caskets and move them onto a transport pallet. Others worked to move a gurney carrying a man still in great need of medical attention. Several others were congregated around the plane, one of them very well dressed. With them talking in a huddle was Jase Daniels.

"Well, we know who holds **his** leash," Ironhide said as he folded his arms in disgust.

"Always good to know," Prime said as he took in the entire scene.

The caskets were hauled to pallets and strapped down, then the orderlies stepped back as a forklift began to move them one last time. A military hummer pulled up. Colonel Fulton climbed out to walk to the men with a clipboard under his arm.

"Army triplicate," Ironhide said with a humorless grin. "Same here, same everywhere."

Prowl glanced at Ironhide, then the Colonel, the comment finding resonance in his processor. He turned to Prime, looking up with a questioning glance.

Prime looked down relaxing unconsciously.

"He wants to talk to you,” Prowl said. “They could start a public campaign. They have a number of public relations firms that do their bidding. It could disturb public opinion against us."

Prime nodded, then looked at them again. "Wait here," he said walking toward the plane and the people gathered there. He strode like a Prime, like a leader of worlds, like a warrior with a proud illustrious lineage to uphold, like someone who’d forgotten more about class then the group of them would ever learn. He caught their eye almost immediately.

They turned together to watch him approach, their conversation stilled.

When he reached them he nodded to Fulton. "Colonel."

"Prime," Fulton said nodding back. He introduced the group to Optimus. "This is Thomas Jaspers, Field Operations Manager for Intel-Martin, this is William Nast, C.E.O and President of Intel-Martin and this is August Temple, their pilot. You know Daniels."

Optimus nodded, a cool optic going from one to the other, memorizing and filing them away for future reference.

Temple stepped back removing himself from the conversation, thus showing himself to be of no consequence in the matters at hand.

Nast and Jaspers glanced at each other, Daniels seemingly indifferent to the whole moment. Then Nast stepped forward to look way upward at Prime. "Even in these circumstances it's an honor to meet you, Mr. Prime."

"Prime is sufficient," Optimus replied, his tone cool, even regal. "These 'circumstances' could have been avoided."

"We're evaluating the findings," Nast replied. "We don't have a position on this matter at the moment. We're looking through the legalities before we take any measures or positions on the whole business."

Prime considered him, a bureaucrat without a spark in his estimation. A drone he seemed, droning on for the sake of financial and ego gratification, nothing more. "We have diplomatic status and will exercise it to protect our own interests. You might review the treaties that were signed by your country and the United Nations. I am serious about the protection of my soldiers and it would be in all our interests if you would pass that on to yours."

"Are you threatening us?" Nast asked, his expression smoothing into a cipher, a state that Optimus couldn't decode.

"I never make threats," Optimus said. "I make promises and I keep them."

Nast nodded, considering that. "I will remember it."

"Do it," Prime said. He glanced at Fulton with a nod, then began to walk back to Prowl and Ironhide, his affect one of great power and dignity. He had nearly reached both mechs when Nast called out. Prime turned to look at him.

"I'd like to talk to you. Privately," Nast said walking forward toward the group with very little fear disturbing his affect.

Prime looked at him and waited. If Nast wanted to speak to him he could come all the way over.

He did.

Prowl and Ironhide made no effort to move.

When he got to Prime he waited.

They waited, too.

"I wished to speak to you alone."

"You assume my people speak your language."

Nash considered that. "I want to know how we can work together."

"On what?" Prime asked.

"The Decepticon problem. It would be a great advancement for everyone for you to share your technology," Nast said. "I know you have treaties and rules. But this isn't Cybertron. We can be of great benefit to each other, you and me."

"I seriously doubt that," Prime replied. "Is there anything else?"

Nast looked at him, then the two big mechs standing nearby. "We're not enemies."

"Your goon ran into my soldier on purpose. Your record as a mercenary is disgusting. You have no honor. I do not believe we are friends. But we could become enemies easily," Prime concluded, his voice filled with menace.

"That would be too bad," Nast said quietly. "Things happen."

"That road runs both ways," Prime said. He turned to look at Ironhide. Then he turned back to Nast. "This is Ironhide. Your goons hit him." He turned to Ironhide. "Do you wish to make a comment to Mr. Nast?"

"Yes. Mr. Nast, frag off."

Nast looked at Prime. "I thought you said they don't speak my language?"

"They do not," Prime said smoothly. "None of us are fluent in cowardice." With that, he walked to his mechs who walked away with Prime.

Nast watched them go, then walked back to the Colonel, Daniels and his two men. He reached them, shaking his head with regret. "We could use about two of those on the payroll," he said signing off on the caskets.

Fulton taking the clipboard scowled at him in disgust. "Mr. Nast, there isn't a price in the universe that would compel Optimus Prime to stoop that low." Without a further word, he walked to his hummer to climb inside. Without a further glance he sped back to his HQ.

Nast watched him go, his mind considering a number of possibilities. Then he with his party walked to the plane to climb aboard to buckle in for takeoff.

Daniels remained on the tarmac watching them until they disappeared. Then he began to walk back to his SUV unaware that he was on the sensor grid of three Aerialbot Autobots the whole time.

-0-Far away

They slid energon into the cells re-powering them as they did. They had removed their restraints earlier and it had made the difference. Springer sat leaning against a wall sipping his energon, exploring the area with his sensor grid and his optics. The ground underneath him was cold dirt and the walls very thick roughly cut stone. It felt underground to him, like a deep cave or lower levels of a dungeon.

Footsteps gave them pause. They glanced at each other, syncing together as they relaxed to feign disinterest. The footsteps were heavy ... a Seeker was coming. They waited and sure enough, Starscream with Swindle walked toward them out of the darkness. They paused in front of the bars, the Seeker perusing them. "Springer."

"Starscream."

"I hope you aren't too inconvenienced. I brought company along for you. It's always good to have company, especially family."

Arcee regarded Starscream, amused that he had made such an error but the fact that he did hadn't been that hard to square. The humans were complex, layers on their layers. Anyone could have made a mistake and Starscream had. His spy had fallen for the prank, too.

Springer sat quietly sipping his energon and she did, too, waiting for Starscream's ego to become agitated. It was at moments like that he sometimes made his mistakes.

"Tell me about Prime," Starscream asked.

"Why?" Springer asked. "What do you want to know about him and why do you care?"

"Curiosity," Starscream replied. "One is lucky to know their opponent well."

"He's Prime," Springer said simply.

"And you?" he asked. "Is he just Prime to you or is he something more?"

Arcee shrugged.

"Well, we shall see," Starscream said. "We shall see what Optimus Prime will do to get his bond and youngling femme back."

They stared at him then, then the two walked away.

Springer watched him, then glanced at Arcee. "I almost feel sorry for him."

Arcee grinned. "You and me both.

-0-Ops Center

Red Alert worked quietly. Beside him running the search and rescue was Jazz and Prowl. They had sent the Aerialbots off, the four of them changing alt vehicle formats into space shuttles, their original alt forms. They were going to search the solar system heading into the Oort Field after a cursory scan of the planets beyond Earth. The Oort Field was the most likely place to find their missing people. They would go there. All the data that they collected would be transmitted back to Earth and Teletraan III to sort out and collate.

They would get into the Oort Field, following the trail until it disappeared, then scan every large Apollo body out there until the transponders in Arcee and Springer pinged back that they were found.

Then the real rescue would begin.

-0-Nearby

Bluestreak sat in the Rec Room nursing a cube of energon. Nearby with a pained aggravated expression, Sunstreaker watched his lover. Bluestreak was miserable. Sideswipe was miserable and overdue back from Autobot City. Sitting in a quandary, over thinking too much, he counted the ways that Prowl was miserable too, none of them repeatable in polite society. Frustrated, he and Blue stared at each other with lonesome optics as the miserable day droned on.

  
  


Chapter 58

  
  


-0-Ops Center

Jazz studied the intel from the night before and the newest this morning, rising to walk from Ops Center to the Rec Room. He scanned for Prowl who was taking a break. Catching his attention, Prowl arose and came to Jazz, following him out as they walked toward the N.E.S.T. HQ. It was warm as a slight breeze kept the temperature in the 'perfect range' according to most of the humans they encountered. They passed troops and nodded, pausing with a couple to chat so by the time they reached the hangar where the teleconference was being held Prowl was up to speed.

They walked down the middle of the big space, avoiding the edges which were crammed full of equipment and their technicians as other men and women ran here and there doing work that required it. There was also a handful of civilians from the Pentagon and the State Department who worked at the base as a full time assignment as well.

Few did more than glance up, so common a sight was it to see Autobots come and go. One did, pausing in his work to look at the two as they walked toward Optimus who was in conference with the Pentagon and the State Department. They waited until he could turn, then began a silent conversation together. He watched them, wondering what they were saying as he sat no more than ten feet away. He wondered what mayhem they were concocting to get their two comrades back.

He’d sent texts to Intel-Martin's private mercenary bulletin board, First-Strike-Warriors telling them of the comings and goings of the big bots. He’d been lulled into more than that by these same people who wanted more than to just 'know about them as interesting military-related curios'. Nast and his company began to woo and groom him for the role he now played.

It wasn't hard.

A great deal of money was accumulating in an account in the Cayman Islands with promises of a good role in their organization once he was out of the Army, another incentive to have him be their mole. It wasn't ideological like it was with Nast. He just wanted a comfortable life and a career that could give him all the autonomy and adventure he wanted for himself. In short, he was a born mercenary.

Prime glanced at the monitors behind him the mole noticed, thinking perhaps of something. He once again felt admiration for what they were, how they were made and what they could do. Unlike Nast, he didn't find them odd, creepy or strange. He’d been around them long enough to understand their strengths, their way of life and their fearless warrior ethic. He admired that ethic, enjoyed seeing them out and about and loved their alt vehicle forms.

It was one of the great joys of being stationed here for a lot of the military as well as civilian men and women, seeing the incredible array of phenomenal, often concept cars, planes and trucks. Seeing them transform back and forth, knowing they were alive and sentient was a miracle to watch, a marvel of the universe in which they all lived.

Everyone had favorites and the two Lamborghinis were among the most remarked about and enjoyed. In or out of vehicle format, they were incredibly admired and discussed. They were also the most feared to be around, the uneven temperament of the yellow one evident. But they were often observed by groups of soldiers who came to see them when they worked on the obstacle course or in particular, when they would practice and spar with each other.

Right now, he knew that they were working to retrieve the femme, Arcee and the Top Kick mech, Springer. He’d heard about the Wreckers and their fearsome reputation as the last resort special ops team of the Autobots by accident and then by cultivating Kup who loved to yarn. He admired Springer, often seeing him with Kup lounging in the sun, a laconic figure of poise, humor and palpable competence. He was a soldier among soldiers. He had even ridden in Springer's bed once when they’d been transferred from an exercise to the hangar when it began to pour down rain.

He’d been told to give his controls inside information on a plan that High Flyer had told them he’d discovered. Flyer told them that Seekers were going to be in Australia and that they were going to be working on a 'grab'. He’d considered that, wondering who among the many Autobots in Diego would be the ones sought. He was to keep them informed when the group was sent and the aftermath. Who would be involved? That was the main question High Flyer needed to know.

Why? They didn't tell him.

He sent the intel. Bluestreak, Warpath, the new femme Autobot, Arcee and Springer were going. He sent it and was told to monitor the situation, to tell them if anything changed and the outcome afterward. He did. The Seekers showed up, the encounter happened and two of them, Arcee and Springer were taken. He felt only a twinge of guilt. Things like this happened in this business, the business of war. You lived and sometimes you died.

Prowl and Jazz nodded to Prime then walked out. He watched them, admiring their form and beauty. Jazz seemed cool, just cool. He had a perfect name for himself, he considered, a name that fit his personality. Jazz was a very much admired Autobot among the troops.

Prowl was harder to know. He had wings, too, which he’d been told were sensor devices and highly sensitive to touch. An airman had found that out when he’d accidentally slid his hand along the edge of Bluestreak's wing soliciting a strange response. It not only came from Bluestreak but from Sunstreaker who turned to glare holes though the airman. Profuse apologies aside, the airman never felt comfortable around Sunstreaker again. But then most people didn't.

He was **seriously** hardcore.

Both Autobots were tall, Jazz about 17-18 feet with Prowl about 19-20 feet. That still made them notably shorter than Prime who was at least 28-30 feet tall. Prowl had to look up at a sharp angle to see Prime. Even a tall figure like Prowl looked small and insignificant around someone as massive and brawny as Prime. He shook his head, his admiration for them overtaking him again.

He’d studied them a great deal trying to learn as much about them as he could, finding it not only personally rewarding but useful in his new found role. There wasn't anything that High Flyer and Nast didn't find interesting. The biggest focus after where and what they were doing were the personal details of their lives together.

He’d heard the rumors about Ironhide and Ratchet. After thinking about it a while, noting the lack of females among their ranks, he decided it didn't matter. Alexander the Great had a male companion. Together they’d conquered the world. So what?

Ironhide was one bruising bot and someone whose controlled mayhem he respected. The fact that he looked just about the baddest of all of them was another plus. Ratchet? He had little experience with the yellow medico but he’d heard among the troops that he was brave, fought well and was the best medic their kind ever had.

His favorite bot was Springer. The irony that he was the tool that allowed his capture didn't resonate in his head. It was just business. Turning to his work with one eye on the big Autobot commandant before him, he put it all out of his mind.

-0-Intel-Martin HQ, Houston, Texas

Bill Nast sat in his office atop a tall tower in downtown Houston, Texas. Floor to ceiling windows gave him a panoramic view of the entire Houston downtown area. His phone call just concluded had pleased him a great deal. High Flyer, an enigmatic billionaire who was supportive of his ideas and positions both financial and ideological had called and finalized the plans they’d been working on for a long time. It also confirmed something he’d been guessing at for a while.

High Flyer had contact with the Decepticons. How he did, Nast could only guess. His own contacts around the world paled compared to this. He wondered how it could be that these evil machines had made this alliance, for alliance it was. The 'Cons had helped to capture two Autobots. They together had helped the Decepticons capture two Autobots. He himself had helped the Decepticons capture two Autobots. It narrowed down to him, here, sitting and digesting the news.

The Decepticons had agreed to his fee for his help. They would help the 'Cons with this odd request, the capture of a specific Autobot or two and in return, he and Intel-Martin would get one of them to reverse engineer. He wanted the one called Springer. He surely would be of more value. But they had agreed to give him the female, the femme, Arcee. He was irritated. That bot was only about 24 feet or so feet tall and slimmer than the warrior mechs that he coveted. What could she possibly give them that could displace what they could mine from the other?

He swallowed his irritation. This was only the beginning. They were hooked together, Intel-Martin, High Flyer, Daniels, their mole and the Decepticons. Something told him that they were playing with dynamite, that the machines couldn't ever be trusted to keep their word or not turn on them. But it was too late now. He’d committed treason. It was go forward or go to prison. As he sat musing on his decisions, William Nast made a pact with himself that he would never ever go to jail.

-0-Far away

They came for Arcee. Springer couldn't help her. Starscream hit her with a null ray since she’d disabled two 'Cons who had tried to extract her from the cell physically. Springer cursing, throwing himself at the bars could only watch as they carried her away.

Starscream standing nearby watched him with an intense expression. When she was gone he came closer, the two of them glaring at each other. "If you ever want to see your daughter again you will have to do what I tell you. If you fail she will be dead. I will give her to my troops and then I'll personally cut her into confetti. Do you understand?"

Springer whose spark burned like napalm in his chest nodded.

Starscream smiled.

-0-Ops Center

"Here’s the intel, Optimus," Jazz said handing the datapad that he had compiled to Prime. It detailed the cross traffic between 'High Flyer' and William Nast.

Prime read it with a frown as a sense of irritation burned in his tanks. "I want this to be priority one, Jazz," Optimus replied glancing at the maps on two of the monitors above security. The huge screens detailed the Earth, the eastern and western hemispheres gracing each one separately and in incredible detail. "Where do you suppose they will ship?"

"I would think from Europe, the Mediterranean area perhaps," Jazz said. "What we have to do is find out where they're goin' to come into Earth's atmosphere. They're avoiding Mars because they know we fly a lot around her. I would say they'll come in from behind Venus and hit the North Pole. Intel-Martin uses a shipping firm out of Cyprus often. We can watch that outfit and try to see if they message a confirmation to Nast once they get ready to send."

Prime nodded. "I want Arcee taken to Autobot City and I want her to stay there out of sight under radio silence. I also want to know what has happened to Springer. Any word on the shuttles?"

"Not yet. The Oort Field is pretty big and chaotic. The signal dead ends in line with our approach field for incoming Autobots from outside the solar well. I can assume they use it, too, because the density of debris is lighter through there."

"Keep them at it," Prime said. "Everyone must bring their 'A' game. Arcee depends upon us intercepting her before Nast gets his hooks into her."

Jazz nodded. He walked to the sensor station to watch and work his network of computer bots and spiders.

Looking around the command deck, Prime noted the efficiency and integrity of his Autobots and fellow Cybertronians. They made him proud. They weren't like Nast and his hired goons. They were beyond Nast's scope. The idea that they would cooperate or share technology and information with Nast made his tanks turn over.

Never, he thought. Never.

"Prime?"

He glanced at Jazz.

"We have a message coming in from beyond the solar well. It was zipped through in ultra high speed transmission format and can't be traced. I have it taped."

He rose to walk toward the main screen pausing to glance at Jazz. "Is it clean?"

"Yes," Jazz replied.

"Play it," Prime said as Ironhide and Prowl came to stand beside him.

A moment passed as Jazz diverted it to broadcast. It wavered, then opened. It was Springer sitting in front of a cut stone wall with a transmission device trained upon him, his manner tense but calm and his vision focused on something beyond the camera. Then his gaze took in the device as he looked at them directly. "Optimus, this is Springer. They have Arcee. They have our daughter."

-0-Far away

"Now that wasn't hard was it?" Starscream asked as the bars went up again.

Springer looked at him, then sat down relaxing against the wall as if he had no cares. He didn't answer. He stared at Starscream with a look of neutrality on his handsome face.

Starscream moved closer staring at him with an unreadable expression. "Optimus has stood in my way forever. I have control of our faction now with the end of Megatron and still he's there, a roadblock to my ambitions and desires. I hate him. I wish I could articulate how much."

Springer didn't reply. He stared with the same maddeningly blank expression as every sensor he had evaluated the figure before him. He knew from experience that Megatron was a mad man. He was as crazy as it got. But he was gone, to where no one knew. But now the faction was led by someone just as sociopathic. However, Starscream wasn't crazy. He was just evil. Given the two individuals he wasn't sure which was worse.

Then he knew.

"I want to hurt Optimus Prime. I want to dig a crater into his spark that can never be filled. I want him to remember me and know that I can reach out and harm what he loves, what he finds precious. I want him to suffer." Starscream crouched down to allow his optics to meet Springer's. The tall Seeker smiled with a malevolence that pierced Springer's spark. "I want to send you home with a token of my esteem just for him. A memento of our time together, you and I."

Springer looked at Starscream with an unwavering calm expression. He didn't allow the growing dread inside to show on the outside. He had a faint indication that he knew where this was going and it took all his immense personal control not to throw himself at the bars and reach for the Seeker's throat.

"Before we let you go and we will," Starscream said softly with a malicious gleam in his narrowed optics. "You and I are going to merge."

An icy frisson shuttered through Springer's circuits, a glacial freeze that reached from his peds to his processor and every circuit and file in between. He didn't flinch or budge. He kept his gaze locked with the Seeker. "You think you can do that and live?" he asked quietly.

"Do you think that I can't? I'm sure your daughter was sure she could stay with you but she isn't here is she? Do you think you can best my null rays?"

It was as quiet and murky as any situation Springer had ever faced. He stared at Starscream, his mental processes digging through data dumps he’d never accessed trying to find out what he could do to best the Decepticon.

"I want Prime to know I was here. I want him to know I haunt his dreams. I want him to know that I took from you what you give to him freely, that the product of this action is mine and he has to look at it every day. He will see me every day it lives."

"He will kill you," Springer said quietly. " **I** will kill you."

"No," Starscream said quietly. "But you **will** remember me," he said rising again. He looked down at Springer, at his big mech form and his handsome rugged good looks. "The best part is, Springer, you will not know when it's coming. But it is. It's my present to Prime. Paybacks as the humans say. And as they also say, they're a bitch." He smiled slightly, malevolently, then walked away once more.

Springer sat for a length of time he couldn't determine, absorbing and battling the cold icy hurricane of fear that battered him. Then he calmed himself, off-lining his optics as he turned inward sorting through the data that his subroutine search had pulled together. He found what he was looking for.

In the distant past, this tactic had been used against the Autobot Army by enemies so damaged that even this societal taboo was used as against their enemies. It was so outside of their culture and practice, both in conflict and peace that steps had to be taken against those for whom nothing was too terrible to hazard. It had been so anathema when it began to show up here and there that government scientists had developed a self protection program and insert device to protect against sparking through force and required all of their military personnel to have, maintain and use it.

He reviewed files, finding the software, then turned his wrist over to pop the panel that he used to interface with computers and other machines. Down inside, unnoticed but installed by the military was a small black circuit, a chip that was there to protect him. He leaned into the light and looked.

It wasn't there.

Leaning back, he stared at his wrist. Starscream had had it removed. He considered his predicament and began to power down non-essential programs and hardware. He would need every bit of energy to stay awake as long as he could. If Starscream did come for him he would make a fight of it before he lost.

With a sinking feeling, he settled back to wait.

  
  


Chapter 59

  
  


-0-Ops Center

"Optimus, this is Springer. They have Arcee. They have our daughter."

Prime felt a frigid coldness grip him as he watched Springer, a mech he’d known for eons of time personally, professionally and intimately. The command deck was silent as a tomb.

Prowl slipped his servo through Prime's arm squeezing it gently.

Ironhide with a look of fury on his face watched as helplessly as Jazz, Red Alert and everyone else.

"Optimus, the Decepticons have made demands. They'll be releasing them shortly. They want you to fulfill them so they’ll release Arcee. She's not with me right now, Optimus." He looked down moving his servo to his chest like he was in pain. Then he dropped his servo again to stare at the screen.

"They tell me that if you don't do what they want they’ll kill her. Our daughter." Springer raised his servo again, touching his mouth like he was in deep distress. He held it over his chest, then put it down, his distress seemingly acute. For a moment he looked like he would cry.

"They want what they want, Optimus. I ... I ..." He paused again raising his servo and as he did Prime got it. He shifted tensely as he stared more intently as Springer wiped his optics with it, his servo dropping again to his lap. It lay in an awkward manner, the digits moving with what seemed like tension.

As he did Prime turned to Jazz. "Get Kup in here now."

Jazz nodded, then ran out of the room.

The video continued.

"They want you to know that they expect you to cooperate if you ever want to see me again. They told me that they will kill me if you don't and they know our bond ..." he paused again, holding his hand to his mouth once more. Then he began again.

"Optimus, please if I die, then you do, too. I don't want that, Optimus." He rubbed his optics with both hands. "Please, don't cause yourself harm. Do what they ask." Then the transmission ended.

Prime stared for a moment deciphering a couple of things before he heard Kup and Jazz return, hurrying across the floor. He pulled Kup to his side. "Springer sent a message. I want you to decipher it for me. I think I have about half of it."

"What?" Prowl asked.

"Wrecker code," Prime said looking at Prowl. "Watch his servos, his digits and where he puts them." He nodded to Red Alert and it began to play again.

"Optimus, the Decepticons have made demands. They'll be releasing them shortly. They want you to fulfill them and they’ll release Arcee."

"Pause it," Prime ordered. "Watch his servo." Springer moved his servo to his chest like he was in pain, his digits spread apart evenly.

Kup nodded. "He just said that they took Arcee away."

Prime nodded. "Continue."

"They tell me that if you don't do what they want they will kill her. Our daughter." Springer raised his servo again, touching his mouth like he was in deep distress. He held it over his chest sideways, digits closed, then two opened, closed then opened again before he put his servo down.

Kup nodded again. "He just said that the Decepticons have him in a place that’s heavily constructed. That it's a fortress or like one."

It continued. "They want what they want, Optimus. I... I ..." Springer raised his servo wiping his optics, four digits closed and one apart, then dropped it again.

Prime turned to look at Kup. "He says he can't tell where he is. But he's with someone important. Starscream has him some place near enough to come here and far enough away to feel safe. One can assume it's their primary fortress and its partially hand made from the view on the screen. They’ve either built it themselves or they’ve taken over someone's outpost for their own."

Kup nodded.

Prime looked at Red. "Continue."

"They want you to know that they expect you to cooperate if you ever want to see me again. They told me that they’ll kill me if you don't and they know our bond ..." Springer paused holding his servo to his mouth again, digits closed and pointing upward.

Kup thought a moment. "They want to muzzle you, make you ineffective. They want to blackmail you with Springer to make sure you don't do your job or he pays for it."

It continued.

"Optimus, please if I die then you do, too. I don't want that, Optimus." Springer rubbed both optics with both servos, one with digits closed and one opened. Then the transmission ended.

Kup considered the ending, then turned to Prime. "You get it, too?"

"Yes," Prime said, his expression grim. "Starscream is going to kill him no matter what we do. He said for us to do what we have to do and not worry about him."

Kup nodded. "One riot," he began softly, watching the anger and frustration war across Prime's face.

"One Wrecker," Prime finished shaking his head. "Slag that," he said quietly. Then he began to bark orders.

-0-In a crate on a ship in the Atlantic Ocean

She came to consciousness in the dark, strapped down and aware that there was no sound. She extended her sensor net finding the thrum of a great engine and the life signals of 15 humans. A gentle rocking sensation alerted her after a lot of analysis that she was in the hold of a ship in the middle of a great ocean on its way to some place she couldn't decipher.

Analysis further revealed that she was crated up in a wooden box. Her comm system was disabled, her weapons, transponder, and other location devices were missing. She was helpless. She vaguely remembered being hit with a null ray, falling into a vast darkness even as the sound of Springer's curses and shouts faded away.

Now she was alone in a sensory deprived environment and without a clue as to where she was going. It was not the worst situation she’d ever faced in a long life as a soldier but it was among the top ten at this moment. She lay back and powered down all of her systems that didn't need to run. When she got to where she was going she would need the energy. With Starscream in charge, Primus only knew what she would face when she got there.

It was quiet in the hold as she listened intently for the moment when it wouldn't be.

-0-Ops Center

Ratchet walked into Ops Center pausing by Ironhide, slipping his servo into the big mech's arm. He’d heard the news about Springer. It had circulated through the complex in nanokliks going beyond Earth to Autobot City. Everyone was on edge. Two of theirs were captive, one of them on her way to a lab for disassembling in the United States.

It seemed that was the way life was, up one moment and down in the Pit the next. The joy everyone had felt at the sparking was being swallowed whole by the fear that Arcee and Springer might be lost. He’d walked to Ops Center to find out what he could do and to be with Ironhide who he knew would be deeply upset. Arcee and Springer were close friends, youngling soldiers from the old days. Now they were lost on a mission and they had to be found.

Ironhide turned to Ratchet and looked at him, surging over their bond his love. Ratchet surged back, leaning against Ironhide's shoulder. They were waiting for intel from the shuttles who were moving out from the Oort Field and into a route that led to small planetoid-sized asteroids that could be big enough for fortresses or shelters.

"How is Prime?" Ratchet whispered.

Ironhide glanced back squeezing Ratchet's servo which he held in his own. "He's feeling personal about this. As usual."

Ratchet nodded. He did, too. They all did.

"How do you feel?" Ironhide asked massaging Ratchet's servo with his thumb digit.

"I'm fine, Ironhide. You?"

"I'll be fine when the younglings are safe," he replied.

Ratchet nodded.

-0-Autobot City, Mars

They received the call that they were to stay and man the installation. The gun turrets were in transition. That is, they were essentially built but the guns were not installed. Instead, they’d moved two of the Aerialbots to the settlement and had them base there when they were in, ready to assist in the defense if something came out of space at them. One of Teletraan's mobile satellites was in station around Mars, also a part of the early warning system.

Sideswipe having gathered his gear to leave found that he was staying until further notice. The word about Arcee and Springer had reached them along with the orders. He was unhappy but kept it to himself, the reasoning sound as the Autobots were placed in danger collectively when a single member was held hostage.

He rolled down the street taking in the amount of construction that had been accomplished since the first steps of surveying. There were three streets so far, two of which crossed. There was space designated in the planning for housing of civilians and businesses at some future date. There was an abundance of materials on this planet that would allow manufacturing. There was even the hope of trade with Earth eventually, although Earth had no idea of their efforts thus far. He turned at the corner and rolled into the garrison which had built the surface level floors and had begun to map out the interior of the Autobot Armed Forces Headquarters.

One day they would have a city and he would live here, he, Sunny and Bluestreak. Hopefully, it would be the three of them he considered. Hopefully. He rolled into the garrison, down to the underground levels where the crews and their guards lived.

-0-A faraway place

He sat in his cell, every creak and sound throwing a wrench into his spark. Starscream hadn’t come back. He would, Springer imagined because he said so. As he thought that, he heard a door open, then footsteps walking down stairs. After a nanoklik of paralysis, Springer on-lined the systems that he needed for combat, dialed down his emotional subroutines and switched to night vision. The darkness seemed almost alive and it swirled, an effect of his vision and fear.

Footsteps echoed in the dank dungeon as he waited ready for everything and nothing.

-0-On a ship in the ocean

It cruised into port, landing in Corpus Christi, Texas. When the ship came into dock and was secured, the Port Authority police and other law enforcement officials were waiting. After boarding the cargo vessel, going over the manifest and other pertinent paperwork to compare it to the cargo they could see the easiest, the ship's captain, a Cypriot found his vessel impounded. The usual arguments broke out and the crew was removed, carted off to a detention facility at the port.

The Coast Guard working with N.E.S.T. and the F.B.I. began a systematic search of the ship going through the cargo box by box. By the time they found the crate with Arcee, the impound orders had been signed and the crew placed under arrest for carrying contraband. Illegal weapons and munitions were found on board as well as a long heavy wooden crate that was off loaded when the ship had been cleared and placed in a truck for transport to the airport.

By the time the truck reached the airport Optimus Prime had been assured by Will Lennox who was leading the team that was dispatched that Arcee was being loaded onto Cosmos and would begin the trip homeward. Prime sitting in Ops Center at Diego Garcia felt a relief that was only partially uplifting. Half of their job was finished. The other half was still undone.

-0-Far away

The footsteps stopped just short of the pool of light that ended in shadows beyond the cells. They were heavy footsteps, ominous and slow, taking their time to arrive. He sat as calmly as he could manage, his optics dialed to the greatest precision he could effect.

"Springer."

"Starscream."

The Seeker stepped into the light, the shadows making his menace even greater than usual. Springer watched him as he moved toward the front of the cell, pausing there with his weapon online and powered up. Springer looked at it, a null gun, as a smirk formed on his lips. "What do you need a weapon for, Starscream? Are you afraid you'll fail?"

It stung the Seeker. He sneered. "It won't matter how the deed is done as long as it is."

"You're a coward, Starscream. Even dead, Megatron casts a bigger shadow."

Megatron's name needled Starscream causing him to raise his weapon. He pointed it at Springer. "You won't sidetrack me with your insults, Springer. In the end I will win and you will lose."

"This isn't about me, Starscream. It's about everything else. It's because Optimus is a better mech. It's because Optimus has the Matrix, because he's the Prime and has the love and respect of our people. That's what this is about. It isn't about me or anything else. It's because you don't measure up on any scale with Prime."

"I know your game, Springer. I had to endure it with Megatron for vorns. But he's gone, disappeared, and I'm leader of the Decepticons. Now it's time to pay Prime back for all the vorns of misery he's caused me. Now is the time to take what is his," he whispered, his rage so finely contained that he fairly glowed with it. He came closer and knelt down on one knee structure. "Now is the time that I take that which is Prime's." He smiled, slightly raising the weapon toward Springer. "You."

Then he fired and Springer fell into oblivion.

  
  


** Chapter 60 **

  
  


-0-Far away

He came to sentience flat on his back, the bars of the cell gone. He felt the muzziness of a null ray and lay quietly, aware that only time and his diagnostics programs would clear his vision and processor. The moments before being struck slammed back into his awareness and the cold fingers of fear gripped him.

Finally he sat up and rolled his head, shaking some of the tension that he felt in his neck. Rising to his peds, taking a moment to get his bearings, he walked forward with caution infusing his every movement. No one was there, no one was close and the door to the brig, jail or whatever this place was was standing open slightly. Moving forward, he peered out looking down a long stone corridor that led to stairs that went upward and beyond. No one was behind him, he sensed no one ahead, so he went as silently as a cat creeping forward to freedom.

-0-In the Oort Cloud

They had begun to scan larger asteroids looking for constructions that might signal Springer's presence. They flew grid patterns casting their sensor nets wide. The Aerialbots were due to turn back but they continued onward just a little farther. Sky Dive was certain they were on the right path.

-0-Springer

He climbed the stairs, every sound and creak evaluated and dismissed, every gesture of his body ready for combat, every movement prepared to react. By the time he reached the large room above he could see that no one was left but their debris was scattered all over the place. Here and there were burn and scorch marks on floors and walls. He crept to a window and beyond it there was no ship, no guard, nothing. Looking around, he saw a device on the floor near to the door.

He stared at it, then came forward, bending down to look closer. It was a communication device typical of Decepticons. He scanned it to find nothing dangerous to give alarm. He picked it up, re-programming to an Autobot frequency. There was only static. He listened, then straightened, moving to the door to peer outside. No one was within the range of his sensors so he stepped outside and considered if his alt helicopter format would take him very far in vacuum.

He looked at the comm device and decided to wait, going over the situation as he saw it. Then he went back inside to look through the debris to find anything that he could use to make a signal.

-0-Sky Dive and the Aerialbots

They passed a cluster of big asteroids, several that had battered each other and as they did they entered a more vast region of large and small bodies. Beyond them, a faint signal was emitting so they spoke among themselves making their plans for approach and retreat should it turn out to be the enemy.

Sky Dive who was the fastest flier in the group went on ahead with his sensors and weapons both activated. As he approached a large asteroid he could see the effects of habitation on its impacted surface. The signal was coming from there so he pinged it, sending a pulse that indicated that he was an Autobot. He got it back and commed the others, going in for a closer look as he did.

On the surface below standing outside the underground structure that had been his prison, Springer waited, waving his arm to the sky.

-0-Ops Center

"Prowl here."

"Prowl, we found him."

Prowl felt the weight of a hundred similar but unsuccessful moments lift off his spark. "Sky Dive, what's his status?"

"We found him abandoned on an asteroid. Silverbolt took him on board. His appearance is acceptable. But beyond that we don't know. He's communicating and appears to be unimpaired."

"Affirmative," Prowl said as he commed Med Bay. "Your ETA?"

"We’ll be in orbit around Earth in four joors."

"Affirmative. Prowl out." He opened the channel to Ratchet. "Ratchet, the Aerialbots found Springer. They're bringing him home in four joors."

"Good. How is he? Is he in need of treatment? Show we go out to meet them?" Ratchet asked.

"Sky Dive says he's in good condition but until he gets here I don't know the extent of that. I’d prepare for him in four joors unless something comes up and we have to meet them."

"All right, Prowl. We'll be ready. Ratchet out."

"Prowl to Prime."

"Prime here."

"We have him, sir," Prowl said with evident relief.

There was a pause.

"Thank you, Prowl. When is he going to be here?"

"Four joors. He's in good shape, the Aerialbots say."

[Pause]

"Good. Thank you."

"You're welcome," Prowl said. "Prowl out."

-0-Springer

He sat on the floor of Silverbolt's hold leaning against the bulkhead, relieved to be found. It would be a short swift ride back to Earth, then the real battle would begin. He pushed his thoughts away and off-lined his optics as he attempted to relax until then.

-0-Orbit around Earth

They entered into orbit and commed Ops Center, coming down to Diego Garcia one at a time. Silverbolt landed first taxiing as close to the hangar complex as he could. He lowered his ramp as Springer arose rapping his thanks on the ship's hull as he walked downward toward the light beyond. As he did, he saw Prime waiting with an anxious affect to his body and a tense expression on his face.

"Hey," Springer said smiling in spite of not feeling it.

"Springer," Prime said clasping his wrist. His optics taking in his friend carefully. "They found you abandoned."

"They did. I'm assuming you got my message in the message?" he asked as he began to walk with Prime toward HQ.

"We did. We got Arcee," Prime said.

"Good," Springer replied, his relief evident. "I assume she wasn't going to be released."

"No. She was going to Intel-Martin to be reverse engineered," Prime said with a trace of anger in his voice.

"It'll be nice to put that outfit away," Springer said.

"We will. Right now, Ratchet is waiting in Med Bay," Prime said.

Springer slowed, his expression devoid of emotion. "I think I'll take a pass."

Prime slowed to a stop, pausing uncertainly before the big mech who knew him more than most could imagine. "It is standard. If you have been in Decepticon custody-"

"You've got to be scanned for viruses and I know. I'm not agreeing to go, Optimus," Springer said as he tensed slightly.

Prime hesitated as a thread of dread suffused his spark. "I would like you to go. I... I would be derelict in my duty to you, Springer, if I agreed to your request."

"I know. I relieve you of that responsibility."

He stared at Springer a long time, their optics level as they gazed at each other. "Springer, if there is something you need to tell me, something that will not be public, I am here to listen."

"I know and no, there isn't anything. I just want you to accept that I won't be going to Med Bay," Springer said.

They stared at each other for a moment, then Prime shifted. "What happened?"

"Nothing," Springer lied. "I just don't think I need to go to see Ratchet."

"I could order you to go."

"You could."

Prime felt his insides turn over at the possibilities that would compel a mech as strong as Springer to defy standard procedure. "I could go with you. No one will know the outcome of the tests. Just you, me and Ratchet. They will be sealed."

"I can't go," Springer said doubling down. "I won't go, Optimus, unless you're ready to shoot me."

Prime stared at him, his unease palpable. Then he nodded. "Just for today you do not need to go. But tomorrow, I will order it if I have to."

"You can," Springer said. "I don't have to obey." He looked at Optimus as a thousand words and a thousand moments hung between them, then he stepped around Prime to walk toward the HQ alone.

Prime watched him go with miserable optics.

-0-Outside the HQ that evening

Springer sat on the metal bench outside the hangar nursing a cube of high grade energon. He’d been given it by Kup who wanted to know how his protege and friend had gotten out of jail. He had fudged the story and left claiming fatigue, coming outside to watch the sun set on the horizon of a different world than the one he had fought for all his adult life.

It was quiet and peaceful. He didn't notice that Ratchet had come out taking a seat next to him. He startled, then looked at Ratchet with a nod. "Ratchet. Nice approach. I didn't hear you."

"You're tired. I'm old and treacherous. Bad combination."

Springer smiled. "True."

"Glad you're back, youngling."

"Glad I'm back, too. I like the sunsets here."

"So do I," Ratchet said. He looked at the ground a moment, then Springer. "You didn't come see me. I waited a long time, too."

"Nothing to say, nothing to see, Ratchet," Springer said.

"That's for **me** to say, Springer," Ratchet replied. "You younglings … you're so precious to us. I don't know if you understand that. We, Ironhide and me and a few others, we remember you when you were youngsters, full of life and the desire to fight. You, every one of you, are **precious**. What happens to you, how you are, what you feel, that **matters**. I would hate to not be able to take care of any of you when you get hurt."

"I'm not hurt, Ratchet," he said squeezing Ratchet's servo as he took Springer's hand.

"Some hurts don't show on the surface. I know," Ratchet said. "I'd find it hard to recharge knowing you might need me and I didn't get to take care of you."

"I hear you and Hide sparked. I'm happy for you two. Who would have known?" Springer said smiling at Ratchet as the medic leaned against his shoulder massaging Springer's hand in his own.

"It's a miracle," Ratchet agreed. "I hope to have the separation at Autobot City."

"First sparkling born in our first colony," Springer mused. "That's a good thing."

"So is taking care of you, youngling. Come with me. It's me, Ratchet. I'll take care of you and you'll be cared for with love."

Springer felt himself fill with emotion as all the memories of Ratchet and Ironhide, two wild wonderful companions of eons of vorns came to him. They had helped blunt a void that ripped open when Polyhex and his family was engulfed with flames long ago. He swallowed hard as he stared at his energon. Then he tossed it in a container beside the bench. He squeezed Ratchet's hand and stood, tugging Ratchet to his peds.

Ratchet squeezed his servo and together they walked inside.

-0-Med Bay

He sat on the med berth tense and silent. Everyone was gone. It was only Ratchet and Springer here now. Ratchet was talking about Ironhide, telling Springer a funny story when he reached for and gently opened the medical panel on Springer's neck. Taking a cord, he carefully plugged it inside rubbing Springer's neck with his digits.

Springer relaxed into Ratchet's fingers, resignation suffusing him as he did. Ratchet slid his arm around Springer's helm, holding him as Springer leaned into him. An arm slipped around Ratchet's waist as Springer off-lined his optics waiting sadly for the findings.

Ratchet's voice was soothing and as the data poured through the screens behind him, Ratchet continued to tell about Ironhide. The data flow stopped and the conclusions were delivered, glyphs one after the other forming in neat text lines. Ratchet read them, then looked down at the forlorn youngster leaning against him. "You're clean, Springer. There's nothing in your system that you didn't have when you left."

He leaned up and looked backward reading the words for himself. Then he swallowed hard and slipped both arms around Ratchet, hugging him as Ratchet hugged back. They stayed that way for a long time.

Out in the hall slumped against the wall, Optimus Prime waited out his relief as well.

  
  


Daniels sat silently trying to digest what it all meant. A bond wife or perhaps husband or what passed for both among their kind ... and a daughter. How did a robot have a daughter? And why would a machine need a spouse? It stuck in his craw sideways and again, he felt the revulsion that such beings were on the Earth moving among them with their alien strangeness. A bond. A mech who had a bond who was a mech. Or at least he **assumed** Springer was a mech. He had a daughter apparently. Why didn't he have a female bond? What the hell?

His computer pinged again.

Nast.

He opened it and read the email...

_"I got the word from High Flyer. I don't know how he finds this out but our friend in N.E.S.T. HQ just confirmed it. Either High Flyer has his own moles in N.E.S.T. HQ that we don't know about or he has contact with the Decepticons. Either way we have the advantage. We'll always be one step ahead of them. I'm coming out to pick up the bodies of the two morons who died and get the other employee. He's ready at last to go. I want to see them when I get there. I want to see this Prime and these Autobots myself. Be there and make it happen, Jase. -Bill Nast_

_C.E.O.-Intel-Martin_

_Houston, Texas_

Daniels considered Nast, the man who would finance his way to the Congress and beyond some day. Between him and High Flyer, his path was free and clear. He smiled and sat back sipping his beer, waiting for more emails to come.

-0-Ops Center

"Nast is coming," Ironhide said. "Should be interesting. Apparently, they want to see what you're made of."

Prime glanced at Ironhide. "They will," he said, his voice low and calm. "Count on it."

  
  


Chapter 61

  
  


This always indicates Cybertronian languages: { word inserted here }

-0-The Rec Room, Autobot HQ

The day was warm, about 70 degrees. The rec room hummed with the conversation of a dozen or so Autobot youngsters who had decided that Ratchet and Ironhide needed a sparkling shower, whatever that was. After being assured it didn't require water, they got down to details. Bluestreak who was sitting at the table with several other Autobots, his eyes lingering on Sunstreaker who sat at a table nearby, explained what they would do

"Humans have baby showers for their babies before they separate. You eat and play games and the carrier gets all kinds of infant things, then you eat some more and everyone has a good time and there's dancing, too, I think."

"We can have one here. We can decorate this place up and Blaster can make the music," someone else said.

They continued with Bluestreak offering to ask Prime and Prowl if they could do this and by the time the Senior Autobot meeting began all the details were worked out. Driving by at the same time on their way to the weekly combined meeting, Epps and Lennox waved and shouted greetings.

-0-Conference Room, Senior Autobot Officer/N.E.S.T. Weekly meeting

The senior Autobot officers gathered in the conference room with energon cubes, datapads and other odds and ends as well piled up at hand. Perceptor and Wheeljack sat together talking about patents and other essential but bone dry matters to be had. Prime and Prowl sat together, helms nearly touching as they discussed the agenda. Ironhide sat beside Ratchet, his servo tracing gentle circles on Ratchet's back plates. Others drifted in and they included Springer who had just been promoted to Head of Security for Autobot City and the entirety of Mars.

Prime finally turned to the group and they began. Epps and Lennox sat on the table in their usual chairs. {"Welcome, everyone. I want to announce that Springer is our new Chief of Security for Autobot City and Mars."} He said so in Cybertronian to keep the news from Epps and Lennox who once again knew something good happened but not what it was.

Applause and good wishes flowed.

{"We are grateful that he is back and that his efforts and Arcee's were able to confirm the information we have been putting together about Intel-Martin and Daniels} Prime concluded.

Prime, Prowl and Jazz had spent time prior to the meeting explaining the situation to Epps and Lennox as well as getting their cooperation on the secrecy angle. Even though they would know and not Fulton, Morshower or anyone else in a greater position of authority, they agreed that the case had not been firmed up enough to present. Also, there was the potential to capture some big fish by using the connections and channels to work their own designs.

"If we could nail Daniels, that would be good enough for me," Epps said.

The next item of business was a short outline of the legal process that had just concluded in which they were, even as aliens in the strictest sense entitled to ownership of their own technology, ideas, information, and patent items under the laws regulating intellectual property both in the United States and abroad. They would be able to begin the patent process on the four items they were going to bring to market in order to make themselves financially independent of the United States, their treaty allies and the participating United Nations funding groups.

As Perceptor concluded, assisted by Wheeljack tossing in the random remark, Prime got a call and the meeting had to pause as he took it. Lennox smirked at Ironhide as he leaned his helm on one servo and rubbed Ratchet's back with another. "Ironhide, what are you going to call your baby?"

Silence as thick as tar permeated the room as a dozen pair of startled optics turned to the two humans, pinioning them on their brightness.

Epps and Lennox looked from Autobot to Autobot in surprise and growing unease. "What?" he asked as he stared back at Ironhide.

"Will, how did you know to ask that question?" Ratchet asked.

"I just … I heard someone talking about it this morning on the way in here," Lennox said, remembering their short drive through the rec room and a knot of youngling soldiers talking about 'having a party for Ratchet and Ironhide's sparkling'. He told them and sat tensely, feeling mildly like he’d disappointed his parents.

"No one is supposed to know, William and Robert," Perceptor said, tut-tutting in his gentlemanly manner. "This could bring unwanted attention from the Decepticons and TMZ."

[Pause. Accessing. TMZ, Noun, "Thirty mile zone dot com" Information acquired. Transmission terminated] -everyone made of metal

All optics turned to Perceptor. "What are you doing watching TMZ? That's tabloid TV."

Perceptor shrugged. "It was late and there was nothing else on."

All the optics turned back to Lennox and Epps. "You must swear on whatever gods you have that this never gets out into the public, William and Robert," Ratchet said with anxiety creeping into his voice.

"We promise," Epps said as Lennox nodded. "Honestly, we're just glad. We keep secrets."

"Don't remind me," Jazz said with a grin. "I remember the last secret Ironhide had you keep."

"His **'other'** kids," Epps said, snorting with amusement. "Optimus, I am your father." He imitated Darth Vader as everyone stared at him with a blank expression. "Darth Vader. Star Wars." Epps looked from one to the other, shaking his head in amazement. "Jeez. You need to get out more."

"I don't want to **think** about that prank," Ironhide grumbled, looking shamefaced down the table at Springer who sat grinning back at him.

Springer had spent the night on the floor with Kup ruminating on the Decepticons along with a bottle of Wheeljack's rot gut which the inventor had put just inside the door of Springer's quarters when he got back. A long debrief with Prime ensued, a chat with Ratchet about things he didn't want to tell Prime and he felt better. Not especially fine but just better.

And it was good to be home among his comrades once again.

"What **are** you going to name your sparkling, Ironhide?" Prowl asked innocently as he glanced up preoccupied from his datapad.

" **Yes,** Ironhide, what **are** we going to name our sparkling?" Ratchet asked, turning toward him to lean on one elbow as he impaled Ironhide with a severe optic.

Everyone leaned back to enjoy the moment including Prime who was trying to listen to an internal comm and the hilarity about to take over the meeting at the same time.

Prowl who was seemingly unaware of the turn of temperature looked at Ironhide with an innocent expression of interest.

"I was … pondering a number of things," Ironhide said noncommittally as he fidgeted.

"Arbutus."

It was silent a moment. [Accessing. Arbutus, Noun. Ahr-bee-you-tus. Information acquired. Transmission terminated]-the tin cans in the room

"Ironhide, an arbutus is a flower," Perceptor said. "I think it's lovely but ..."

"It sounds hard, tough." Ironhide felt his angst multiplying as amused optics impaled him. He glanced at Ratchet. "I saw it on PBS."

"The Victory Garden. You want to name **our** sparkling after a flower. I **will** say it's a pretty flower but a **flower**?" Ratchet asked as he chuckled at Ironhide's expense.

"What do **you** favor, Ratchet?" Springer asked, smiling broadly at two of the daffiest doodles he knew.

" **Yes** , Ratchet. What do **you** favor?" Ironhide retorted, all high dudgeon as befitting a Chaos Bringer when miffed.

A grin formed slightly as Ratchet glanced at Ironhide. " **You** left it laying around."

"What?" Jazz asked, grinning with expectation.

"Car and Driver Magazine. Ratchet's leaning toward Mercedes." Ironhide sat back and waited for the catcalls.

He didn't get them.

[Silence. Access. Car and Driver Magazine. Mercedes. Information acquired. Access terminating] -honk, honk

"Not a bad car," Wheeljack said, nodding back as Ratchet nodded to him in triumph. "Good specs and rugged."

"I don't want my sparkling to be called Mercedes," Ironhide said.

"Well then, what about Bob?" Epps asked as he smiled broadly. "When in doubt, Bob."

"What about Tevet?"

"Chevron?"

"I like Wheeljack."

"Knob. Short and sweet and rhymes with Bob."

"Prowl is a good name."

"Roscoe. Rhymes with Bosco. Nice drink."

"Don't you think Prowl is a good name?"

"I like Scatman Caruthers," Jazz interjected with a wink and a grin.

"Wheezer, like his genitor."

"Radial, like the tires."

"Thunderado, like … uh, the thunder."

"Optimus Sue."

All: " **Optimus Sue**? You've been reading on the internet again, Wheeljack."

Wheeljack cringed.

"I like Tundra. Sounds like a tank."

"What about Jigsaw? That's a good name. I could get lost in it."

"Thunder Mug."

"That's a toilet device," Lennox said with a laugh. "A pee pot."

"Oh," Mirage said with a smirk as Jazz kicked him under the table.

"What about Toilet Snake then? That's even better."

Laughter and mockery ensued as Ratchet and Ironhide followed the flow of suggestions like spectators at Wimbledon.

After a moment, they paused in the fun to look down table at Springer. He was face down on the table holding his arms against his sides while not making a sound.

Ratchet jumped up hurriedly and before he could move, Springer sat back up bursting with laughter. He laughed and laughed, holding his chassis. "Toilet snake," he whispered. Then he laughed some more.

Everyone else smiled and when Prime logged off, he grinned. "What did I miss?"

"Ironhide and Ratchet are going to name their sparkling Toilet Snake."

Jazz barely ducked the energon cube Ironhide threw at him.

Chapter 62

-0-On a promontory at a Decepticon base outside the Sol System

He watched the night sky through a window in their infirmary, nursing his hurts and his fury. Here at their main base outside the reach of the Autobots, Starscream was sorting through memories that were blurry and seemingly out of order. It seemed the more he searched the fainter they became. Many were the entire stretches of his life that he couldn't recall. It was like looking through shattered glass or an ever turning kaleidoscope.

He remembered that he had accomplished one of his goals, capturing two of the family of the Prime. Then he had them taken away. Or **he** was taken away. There was little in his memories that made sense.

Thundercracker had explained it to him when he had come to sentience again. He had watched Starscream rage, breaking things, making threats in his near delirium but he hadn’t offered more than a cursory explanation.

Starscream had Springer where he wanted him. He was going to extract his pound of flesh as the Earth insects called it. He’d given the daughter away to be dismantled and was going to punish the bond. Then the unthinkable had happened.

He’d heard the sounds of fighting, shooting and yelling. He had risen, turning from the body of Prime's bond to move to the steps with gun in servo. As he turned the corner to look up, a blast had hit him. He’d staggered back, shocked and stunned. Then a light filtered through the darkness, a bright and overpowering light. Two more shots and he was felled, landing on the ground in a great heap.

He thought he was dead, that he was going to the Matrix. He could feel things but not touch them. He sensed others but couldn't see them. It was as if his spark, his sentience was knocked clear from his body. He wondered if he would see the light again as all was dark around him.

Then he felt himself rising, coming to his senses and when he did he was lying on a med berth in their fortress, the anxious expressions of his trine and a medic staring down into his face. He had gasped, his optics struggling to focus and when they did he was aghast.

"You were hit by null weapons. Three times you were hit," Thundercracker said. He shifted, looking at Starscream with something akin to embarrassment. "You were nearly killed."

"What happened? Where is he? Prime's bond?" Starscream stammered, trying to rise with little luck. Servos pressed him down and he relented, the swirl of color and sound in his processor making even slight movement nauseating.

"He was killed or he's taken, we don't know. We had to fight our way out of there carrying you. I believe a team of Autobots came to rescue him," Skywarp interjected quickly, his optics flicking to Thundercracker who looked at him with intensity. "We nearly didn't make it out of there alive, Starscream."

Starscream felt an anger rising inside of him, choking tightly, nearly burying him with its enormity. He didn't want to hear another word, see another thing, feel anything. He wanted to fall into that anger and let it permeate every cell and corner of his body. It was all he had left from his carefully planned operation. "I want you to tell me again," he said, off-lining his optics once more.

Thundercracker and Skywarp looked at each other, the truth hanging between them unspoken.

-Far away some time before the operation

"I don't like it," Skywarp whispered as he paced in the courtyard outside the rundown fortress built in the long ago past by a species that had left nothing behind but its finely hewed walls and well made underground rooms. **"It's abuse!"**

Thundercracker who was leaning against a wall staring into space nodded. "He means to do it."

"And if we did something like that he'd have a fit," Skywarp said. He paused, then turned to regard Thundercracker evenly. "We're a trine or we aren't. We've survived Megatron and all the grounder slag for eons to end up in control. Now he becomes obsessed with Prime and his family. I don't like it."

"What are you prepared to do about it?" Thundercracker asked, regarding his trine mate evenly. "You know he'll merge with that grounder and that will be that."

"And we'll have his thoughts and experiences in our processors forever. Can you live with Wrecker nonsense in your helm? Can you live with the betrayal he presents with his actions? The danger it proposes to control of the faction? **Seekers** are in **control**. We're **leading**. He could endanger everything with his obsession."

"Prime will hunt him down and never stop if he hurts his bond. He'll do it until he dies and I wouldn't put it past him living so he can," Thundercracker commented as he shook his head in disgust. "We're going to lose everything if he makes it too personal. If Springer dies in battle that's one thing. To have this happen, to create this, it'll change things and there will be no turning back."

"Then we make sure it doesn't happen," Skywarp said, glaring at Thundercracker. "You have to be ready to make sure Starscream never finds out."

"How? He'll know," Thundercracker said quietly.

"Bury it," Skywarp said, walking toward the big jet. "Send it so deep in your processor that he can't find it. Build a firewall around it that he can't cross."

"And then what?" Thundercracker asked.

"Then we fake an attack. He's down there. We'll shoot up the place, then go down and hit him with null rays. Two or even three will take him down. Then we carry him away and leave the Autobot. If they find him it'll be well and if they don't, even better. Either way, he won't be in our processors. He won't be there."

With that, they went inside, checking to see where Starscream was. He was in the lower chamber, in the cell room. They could hear him talking, taunting the Autobot and that's when they staged the fight with Skywarp waiting in the hallway hidden in shadows for Starscream to appear. When he did, Sky shot Starscream. Then Skywarp went inside the room and shot him twice more.

He lay sprawled, the Autobot next to him. The Autobot's spark chamber was open and the light illuminated the darkness. Skywarp stared at it, at the spark that Springer shared with the Prime himself. A part of him wanted to extinguish it, to end forever the threat of Starscream's obsession. But he didn't. Prime would follow them. He would hunt them. He would survive the loss of his bond, of this Skywarp was convinced. He knew this to be true because he believed he, himself, would also in his place.

Thundercracker who was shooting up the upper rooms and breaking things to bits finally entered the cell space, pausing to stare at the two bodies on the floor. He looked at Skywarp and then Starscream, shaking his head with emotion. "He'll be angry."

"But he'll be alive and that Autobot won't be living in our minds day and night." Skywarp subspaced his weapons, then gripped one of Starscream's servos. "Help me get him out of here. We have to be far away before he comes to himself."

Thundercracker nodded and they bent to their work.

-Now

"They came, a shuttle with a couple of Autobots. I didn't recognize them. They came and began to shoot." Skywarp paused a moment to gather his wits. "We were able to hold them off until the shuttle began to fire upon us. We were in dire straights and you came up to assist. They hit you repeatedly with a null ray and we were able under fire to pull you away and effect our escape," he concluded.

"And the Autobot? Springer?" Starscream asked as his expression soured. "Did he die or is he alive?"

"I'm not clear. I didn't see him die. He may or not be alive," Thundercracker replied.

They watched him, considering that saying very little and getting less wrong was better than saying a lot and paying for it in indefensible errors later on was the safest route through this swamp. They watched as Starscream fell into a restless recharge.

-0-Autobot City, Mars

He stepped off the shuttle at the makeshift airfield near The Fortress. Cosmos was heading back to Earth as he walked toward the settlement that was some distance down the road. The massive stone walls of the colony were tall, imposing and at each end of the long curtain walls that formed the sides was a huge gun mount. There were two guns already in the turrets with four more to be made and installed.

He walked past stakes that were laid out for a city, one that would be able to hold families and businesses, soldiers and civilians who would someday make a world that was supportive and peaceful for all their people. Right now, he was in charge of security and the well being of all the mechs here. And the femme. Arcee was here. He would find her and see how she was.

As he walked along, the sun shining brightly during the early afternoon, Springer felt right at home.

-0-Prowl and Prime

It was late and they had retired for the evening, the relief of Springer resonating. Sitting on the couch with Prime's feet crossed on the low table before them, Prowl sat reclined in his lap, relaxing against Prime's broad chassis. "I still think Prowl is a good name," he said, smiling slightly.

"You won't get an argument out of me," Prime said with a smile. " **I** love it."

"I was asked by Bluestreak if they could have some kind of party function for Ratchet and Ironhide. The humans call it a baby shower."

They thought about it a moment, then Prime asked. "Bathing a sparkling is an occasion for celebration?"

"I'm not sure. I thought perhaps it was some sort of ritual event for the sparkling's first bath. But apparently you don't need water. You eat, dance, play games and give the carrier gifts for the sparkling."

"Sounds wonderful."

Prowl shrugged. "Sounds painful."

"You need to get out more. Dancing is lovely and so are you. Your wings are a wonder," Prime said. "I find you graceful and elegant."

Prowl grinned as he pulled Prime's arms more tightly around his chassis as he did. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Prime replied, kissing Prowl's helm. "What do we do, how do we do it and when?"

"We just come. We just arrive and enjoy the event which the younglings will be putting together. It’ll be in three orns, this Saturday as the soldiers call it. Ratchet and Ironhide are not supposed to know and Lennox and Epps have been invited. They must swear to secrecy or face the wrath of Ratchet."

"It would be incomprehensible what might happen if Starscream finds out about a sparkling," Prime replied.

Prowl nodded. "You've spoken to Springer? He has assistance?"

"I have. He does."

"Good," Prowl said as he relaxed, his thumb rubbing Prime's servo as it rested on his chassis. They sat together in companionable silence. "I have to chaperon Bluestreak and the twins tomorrow at shift change. They were supposed to go to the beach earlier with Ironhide but it was canceled when Springer and Arcee disappeared."

Prime nodded. "How do you feel about the idea of Bluestreak with two mechs?"

"It's archaic, old fashioned and strange. I have high hopes for Bluestreak's happiness. I'd like him to be happy and the idea of being a part of a trine was not in that calculation. I'm unsure if my reservations are about a trine or about that pair with Bluestreak in a trine."

"The spark wants what the spark wants," Prime offered gently.

Prowl nodded. "My spark wanted you. From the moment I saw you that first day, I knew you were the one."

"You were very crisp and business-like. I was rather put off by your professionalism. I did not know anything and you knew almost too much."

Prowl smiled, looking up up at Optimus, a good eight feet taller than he was even sitting. "Perhaps," he said. "But I knew I loved you. Even then."

"It took you long enough to tell me that," Prime replied, smiling with a look of contentment and appreciation.

"I'm slow," Prowl said with a smile. Then he didn't say another word.

For a while.

Chapter 63

  
  


-0-Houston, Texas

William "Bill" Nast got off the phone to his ground team as he fumed and paced in his luxurious office on the top floor of a tall office building in downtown Houston. The ship carrying his cargo, the femme Arcee had been impounded. The shipping company's reputation had caught up with them at the wrong time. All over the world, the ships of Cyprus International Land and Sea Shipping, LTD were being confiscated and their cargoes impounded.

Arcee was impounded.

She was sitting in a warehouse in Corpus Christi, crated, freighted and off limits. He was thwarted, angry and inconsolable. He wanted what was his and the 'gummit' had interfered, getting into his 'bidness'. He paused his pacing to smirk at the local yokels for whom such gibberish was a badge of honor. Being a boy from Connecticut and a graduate of the finest Ivy League colleges trust fund money could buy, not to mention West Point, he found them quaint, rustic, low-brow, and malleable. He never found a mogul that didn't find the smell of money preferable to nearly anything you could mention including personal honor.

He wasn't a slouch in his professional estimation. He had graduated from West Point, spent his time in Special Operations and had come out when his trust fund turned over to his direct control to build a security agency that was international. Intel-Martin provided security to kings, cowards and criminals the world over. He had enormous pride and ego about what he did. He justified it with his fundamental take on his Christianity, a potent blend of exceptionalism and capitalism, where all is fair in love and war.

He was tall, fair in complexion and coloration and well made from a lifetime of physical exertion. He had something to prove everyday that he woke up. He was going to prove to his father in particular that he was not only living according to the family's code, he was ready to add chapters to the book.

Reverse engineering the Autobot, using that information and technology to increase his grasp on the world of arms, war and politics was his goal. And now it was thwarted. He paced and thought, finalizing a plan in his head. He was going to invade the facility and in doing so take back his property. He was going to retrieve Arcee.

-0-Ops Center

Jazz nodded to Prowl, watching as he swept past, hurrying to be ready to chaperon Bluestreak. "Prowl."

He walked over, his wings fluttering with tension. "Jazz?"

"Relax." Jazz smiled. "It's not like they'll be 'facing in front of ya or something."

Prowl frowned, shaking his head with disgust. "You're obscene."

"You're uptight. Look at this," he said, pulling the latest communication between Nast and his field ops commander, Thomas Jaspers.

Prowl looked and frowned again. "This is a kink we didn't need. Does Optimus know?"

"I commed him."

Prowl frowned deeper. "When is his meeting over or is he leaving it to deal with this?"

"In a couple of joors," Jazz replied. "He'll be coming out when its over. They don't seem to be ready to move yet so he hasn't prioritized it too highly. We'll need a team to be there."

"Put one together, Jazz. I'll be back in a joor," Prowl said walking toward the door.

Jazz watched him, considering what he’d heard from the soldiers when they talked about their teenaged years. He remembered their remarks about their long-suffering genitors and felt a pang for Prowl. Grinning, he went back to the job of sifting Nast for intel.

-0-On a beach nearby

They walked together uncomfortable and tense with Bluestreak between two of the most feared and dangerous Autobot warriors ever to grace a battlefield. Yet they were subdued, glancing over their shoulders from time to time, catching glimpses of the stern figure behind them.

When they’d come together to go, Sunstreaker had taken Bluestreak's servo. That was met with firm reproach. Sideswipe, fidgeting, rolled backwards to talk to Bluestreak and see his face until the quiet figure of Prowl unnerved him enough that he turned around.

Bluestreak who was feeling anxious and embarrassed glanced back with Prowl smiling slightly and nodding as he did. Bluestreak managed a small smile and walked onward along a beach that was beautiful, empty of visitors and faced on one side by the loveliness that was the Indian Ocean. Then he gathered himself to fill the uncomfortable silence, stunned that he hadn't already done so. "The party is going to be fun. All the work is pieced out. Blaster is going to bring music. Maybe we can dance then," he said, his voice trailing off as he peeked over his shoulder. "Maybe."

"I hope so," Sideswipe said with his own expression miserable as well.

Sunstreaker, silent and pensive didn't comment.

"The sparkling is due to separate in February," Bluestreak said. "Or I think its called that."

"That'll be twelve weeks," Sideswipe said, mentally doing the math. "I think its twelve weeks for sparklings."

They continued and when they came to the rock pile that served as seating for all their beach gatherings, they sat. Prowl moved off to the edge of the water then turned to face them without an expression on his face. They stared at him, then each other, then the ground.

Sunstreaker who was feeling an itch in his armor that was growing steadily arose to walk to Prowl, regarding him directly. "What's it going to take to end this?"

Prowl looked at him evenly. "You have to be credible to me, both of you. You have to be worthy to me, both of you."

"We've proven ourselves already," Sunstreaker said, frowning with frustration.

"As warriors," Prowl said. "You have. But as mechs? As someone who can take care of my son the way I want for him? I don't know that you have."

"What do you want us to prove? Give us a clue," Sunstreaker said.

Prowl thought a moment then looked squarely at Bluestreak. "I don't want someone 'facing my son like they were just another mech, using them, then leaving when they get bored or see something else. I want commitment for him. I want him in a loving relationship where he’s primary. I want him to feel that he's loved, appreciated, cared for and happy. **That's** what I want. I want Bluestreak to bond with someone and be safe and happy. I don't want him to be second in someone's spark to other things."

Sunstreaker glanced at Sideswipe who was listening intently. He turned back to Prowl. "What makes you think that we wouldn't do that for Blue? What makes you think that Blue would be second place or that we'd ever leave him?"

"Experience," Prowl said quietly. "I've been here, too, all the vorns of our mutual shared experience. I've seen you 'face around. You're a 'player' as the soldiers say. It's not confidence building."

"You've never seen me step away from Blue all the time we've been together. It's only **been** Blue," Sunstreaker said.

Prowl nodded. "For now. I just can't figure if you'd stay with Blue or if at some point in future some mech walks by and catches your optic, you wouldn't turn your attentions away."

Sunstreaker looked at him, feeling rage sweep through his processor. "You don't think much of me do you."

Prowl thought a moment. "No. You've seldom given me a chance in our personal dealings to think otherwise."

"Not even since I was with Blue?" Sunstreaker asked.

"That's the part that I can't figure out. You have since you took up with him. But I don't know if I can expect you to continue. I **want** you to. I'm not doing this to be difficult. I **want you** to **know** that. There’s a lot to respect in both of you and all of us, **all of us** from Optimus to Hound want you to be all that you can be. Its just … you haven't always been a good mech, Sunstreaker. I want to know you are now for my son."

Sunstreaker listened to Prowl, the words sinking like rocks in his mind, then he looked at Bluestreak. "Bond with me, Blue," he said quietly.

Bluestreak blinked with surprise and anxiety, looking from Sunstreaker to Prowl and back again. He rose uncertain in the flood of anxious energy all around them. "Prowl?"

Prowl who was caught off guard took a moment to think. "Do you want this, Bluestreak?"

"I … I," he stammered. Then he nodded.

Sideswipe stood up, his expression almost fearful. "Blue?" he asked.

Bluestreak turned toward him, looking upward with his own emotional expression.

Sideswipe swallowed then glanced at his brother, their gazes holding. He looked back at Bluestreak. "Bond with me, too," he whispered.

-0-Far away

Starscream paced back and forth. He could remember coming to sentience and tearing up the room he was in, wherever that was. Then he remembered the second time, the med bay where Thundercracker and Skywarp had told him of the rescue of Prime's bond. He was fit to be tied. He’d recovered from the effects of three null ray bursts, the spark destroying ennui it created a surprise to him. Null ray weapons were his favorite but he had a new respect for them having survived them at close personal range.

He stopped, mentally piecing together the moment of his near personal triumph. Springer was out cold, laying on the ground. He’d touched the latch of his spark chamber and it had opened to reveal a blue spark, one that carried in it the memories and life of his most mortal enemy after Megatron.

He had reached down, touching it with his digits. The soft energy tingled in his hand as he felt the life force of not just one but two mechs. Then he began to lower himself, taking his time, not rushing the ecstatic feeling of triumph the moment was bringing to him. Before he could connect, an explosion startled him and he had arisen, walking away from the Autobot and directly into a null ray.

It rankled. It burned. It put an edge on his spark that was not going to go away. He would have to try again. He would have to make another effort to capture the potential of the moment he almost had, a moment that gave him more vicarious emotional impact than anything he had experienced in so long that he didn't even try to process memories. It was even more fulfilling than the loss of Megatron.

He wanted to hurt Optimus Prime that much.

  
  


Chapter 64

  
  


-0-On the beach

"Bond with me, too."

Bluestreak, his spark furiously fluttering in his chassis looked at Sideswipe, falling into the fear and hope savagely and nakedly displayed on his face. He nodded. Then Bluestreak looked at Prowl who watched him with an expression of fear, hope and uncertainty. "I want to, Prowl. I love them. Both of them. I have for so long I can't remember when I didn't."

Prowl who pulled himself together then nodded. "You have to be certain, Bluestreak. This isn't a game. It can't be undone."

"I know," he said moving to stand in front of Prowl.

Prowl gathered Blue into his arms, holding him tightly as he felt a sadness that he couldn't explain fill his spark. He loved his son. He had protected him, helped him find his way, educated and trained him to survive in the world they lived in, teaching him everything about their culture that Blue’s genitors would have wanted him to know.

Now he was stepping away from that protection, laying his spark open to what, Prowl couldn't guess. He just prayed to Primus at that moment that Bluestreak was making a good decision. But because he had and it felt evident to Prowl that Blue was in love, he would support it.

His way.

Prowl looked at the two standing side by side, two halves of a whole picture, each of them reflecting in their faces and optics the desperate hope they both felt. They wanted Bluestreak and it appeared that they loved him deeply, too. That's all Prowl wanted to know. The trine wasn't something he cared for but he understood the predicament the twins faced. They really were half of a whole. "Bluestreak. Go back to the hangar and wait in my office. I have to talk to the twins."

Bluestreak looked at him with an uncertain expression then nodded. He turned to look at the twins. Then he smiled, a warm smile just for them.

They shifted, smiling back, then watched at he walked away to head back to the hangar. When he was gone, the three turned back to each other. There was a deep stillness.

Then Prowl spoke to them. "I found Bluestreak. He was wandering half dead in the destruction of our city. Ironhide and I, we found him. He was covered in his mother's energon. He wanted his mother and we found their home, the remains of his parents scattered everywhere in the blast hole that was his home. He must have been playing in the street or something to miss having died himself. He was half destroyed and incoherent, helpless to survive on his own so he became mine. Sometimes I see that youngling when I look at Blue, that devastated little lost kid with no one, with wounds and pain that he still hasn't been able to put wholly aside."

A seagull called somewhere, its high pitched call echoing over the water.

"I love him. He's **my** son. I will **always** watch over him. I will watch you, too. I will ..." he hesitated, warring with the hard aft that he was to most who really didn’t get to see all his sides. "I will watch you, too, and **hope** that what I **think** I see is real."

"It is," Sunstreaker said quietly.

Sideswipe nodded.

"Good. I will invoke the declaration if I see otherwise and as long as it lasts you'll not be able to be with him not even if you're bonded. That's the power I have and I won't hesitate to use it. I want you to know that. As for bonding, I don't like trines. I don't know how this will work but I'm going to trust Bluestreak. And I'm going to trust you. Both of you, until you prove otherwise."

They nodded, their optics intent upon Prowl.

"I want a Praxian pre-bonding period." Prowl shifted slightly, relaxing a little. "You can't be together intimately for six decaorns. Then you'll bond and that'll be it forever. There's a small ceremony and I will ask Prime to officiate. Maybe it can be the first bonding service in Autobot City. I can see if we can do that because I know in my spark that his family if they had lived would want him to have it. It's our way as Praxians and you have to accept that part of us if you want to be a part of our family."

They nodded. "We can't be with Blue for six decaorns? We can't touch him or talk to him without a chaperon?" Sideswipe asked.

"You can. But you can't 'face. No intimacy. None."

They stared at him then each other.

"I'm asking you mech to mech to keep this agreement, this requirement and service to me and Blue's genitors. I **know** Bluestreak's genitors would have made this requirement of whoever Blue would have bonded with had nothing happened to Praxus and to them. They would've because it's our tradition to do so. You **will** do this for them in their memory to **honor them** and you **will** do this for me. I need your word given on your honor."

They both looked at him, then each other. They looked back at Prowl again with a nod. "You have it," they said in unison.

"Then I'll put the complaint in abeyance. I won't end it yet. I'm still … I still need it there for my sake. But I'm going to trust you as much as I can right now. I **want** to trust you. I **want** this to work if this is what Blue wants. If we're going to be a family, and I want us **all** to be a family, then you **must** meet me half way."

They nodded. For a moment they stood together silently then Prowl walked to the hangar alone. The twins watched him go, each occupied with their own thoughts. Then they looked at each other. "He **wants** it to work," Sideswipe said quietly.

"It **will** ," Sunstreaker said. "What I'm not clear on is how this is going to work logistically after the bond."

Sideswipe smiled in spite of himself. "We'll figure it out."

Sunstreaker smiled. "I guess we will." He grinned again. "Maybe we can email Starscream."

-0-In Prowl's office

Prowl explained his position. Bluestreak listened.

"I want the pre-bonding because we're Praxian. I want to know that we'll remain Praxian and observe as much of our culture as we can, where we can, especially the family traditions. Your genitors, they would have required that you pre-bond and have a service. We **have** to honor them, Bluestreak."

Blue nodded as memories of his parents, merely impressions after the attack destroyed his life with them hovered around his spark. "I'd be proud to do that, Prowl. I want you to know how much I love you today. I will always be your son and you will always be my father."

Prowl nodded as old emotion filled him. "I will always protect you. If I have to put a complaint forward even if you're bonded, I will. I wouldn't do it to hurt you, Blue. I want you to know that."

"I know. You're a Praxian genitor. I know," Bluestreak said with a smile. "I love you, Prowl."

Prowl nodded. "I love you, too."

They looked at each other a moment as oceans of emotion and expression passed between them. Prowl arose and walked around his desk, pulling Bluestreak into his arms. "You understand the limitations of the pre-bonding period?"

"No 'facing, no intimacy, nothing that merges," Bluestreak said. "I have to observe the limitations of the pre-bond and then when six decaorns pass, there'll be a ceremony."

"Yes," Prowl said. "That's right. I asked the twins for their word of honor and they gave it. I want them to keep it. I hope you help them do that. I want our family, and they **will** be family, to be strong, united and loving. I want that for **all** of us."

"I do, too," Bluestreak said, hugging Prowl harder. "I wouldn't have a life without you, Prowl. I wouldn't."

Prowl smiled slightly. "I would hate to think what life would've been like without you, Blue. I love you, too."

They stood together a long time holding each other.

-0-Med Bay, at nearly the same time

He dropped the tool, the electrical spark running through his arm and down his side. Ratchet watched his ped jerk involuntarily. Picking up a scanner, he ran it over his chest, relaxing when the sparkling was pronounced perfection. /... of course it is.../ he thought, moving to fix the tool in his hand. /... his genitor is a Chaos Bringer.../

-0-Firing Range, at nearly the same time

"And this is how you duck a sword," Ironhide said, showing the movement designed to duck a Cybertronian sword as it swung toward him.

Special Ops soldiers hardened by many battles shook their heads. "How does a dude that big move that fast?" one asked.

Epps grinned. "You haven't met Ratchet yet."

-0-Med Bay, a little later

Ratchet stood at the lab analysis computer as an itch circulated through his circuitry. He analyzed, digested and peered at it from all sides. Then he stepped away from his logic circuits and accepted it for what it was. He wanted to frag the peds off of Ironhide.

Nodding to First Aid, he walked out the door heading up the corridor and out to the rec room. Not finding him there, Ratchet decided to go to the only other place Ironhide would probably be and that was the firing range. With a growing set of ***!NEEDS!*** and a gimlet optic, Ratchet of Cybertron marched toward the source of all solace, Ironhide the Patient, Ironhide the Magnificent Bastard, Ironhide, Chaos Bringer of Autobot Nation, Ironhide, the Sexy, the most comely and entertaining mech that Ratchet of Cybertron ever laid optics upon. Operation Frag Ironhide's Peds Off was underway.

-0-Ops Center

Jazz had gathered a small ops team to be on standby should it require a presence at the warehouse in Corpus Christi. He would lead it. Mirage, Hound, Smokescreen and Bumblebee would make up the team. Bumblebee would be available because he and the AllSpark, his family and little dogs were living on base until they could ascertain the threat was over. That or they had Starscream's carcass in hand. Either worked for Jazz who smiled at the thought as the team members began to gather.

-0-Nearing the firing range

Ratchet ambled along, his sensors extended to find his Only One. The day was hot and he felt pretty good, absorbing as much energy from the sun overhead as he could manage. His sparkling who was letting him know he was there pulsed back a tiny indication of his personality-to-come. It was bright and warm as Ratchet embraced it, copying and filing it for future reference and download to Ironhide even as he gently pulsed back energy for the tiny life in his spark chamber.

As he neared the firing range, he was only partially aware of the mercs sitting on their patio, beer in hand as a football game played on a television/tape player ensemble. They watched Ratchet approach, his big yellow superstructure a picture of balance, symmetry and power. As he got closer, one of them, Lawrence Dobbs smirked as he glanced at Todd. "Here come's your girlfriend."

Todd Baseman slapped Lawrence's shoulder, his beer fueled boredom rising in areas where his caution should have resided. "That's not my girlfriend. That's Ironhide's old lady. Haven't you heard?"

They laughed as they stared at the big mech walking by.

Ratchet heard them, his ire rising but he kept his focus. Prime said no fraternization with the … what did Epps call them?

Assholes.

He kept walking. One of them called out. **"Hey! Ratchet!"**

It irked him more to hear his designation coming from someone that small and insignificant. He decided to ignore them.

**"I'm talking to you, Ratchet!"**

Ratchet pausing in spite of himself looked down at them, at the tipsy man who was standing nearby looking up at him. A part of him was incensed. Another part of him began to assert itself in defense of his sparkling. A part of him wanted to put his ped down on the little fragger and smash him flat. But he didn't. He stared at the tiny insectoidal humanoid silently.

" **Ratchet!** I hear you're Ironhide's old lady. Is there any truth to that rumor?"

[Access. Search. Lady, Old. American slang, derogatory. Download. Access terminated.]

Ratchet frowned as he stepped back looking from one insectoidal humanoid to another.

The loudmouth stepped forward, emboldened. **"Hey! I hear you fuck Ironhide! How does that work!"** He pulled out his cell phone and held it up. "I have my phone here. Maybe you can give us a demonstration."

Something deeply buried in his programming awakened and sent a signal to Ironhide who received it in a part of his information database that was basic, ancient and unused. The programming all genitors and creators possessed, that designed to work in cooperation to protect a sparkling that the programming perceived to be endangered triggered and as they stood there, Ratchet with his arms over his spark chamber and the humans gathering around laughing, a roar like a jet plane exploding erupted on the firing range nearby.

  
  


Chapter 65

-0-Firing line now

Something deeply buried in his programming awakened and sent a signal to Ironhide who received it in a part of his own information database that was basic and unused until this moment. The programming all Cybertronians possessed, some of whom would become genitors and creators that was designed to work in cooperation to protect a sparkling perceived to be endangered triggered between the bonded pair. As they stood in their respective places, Ratchet with his arms over his spark chamber and the humans gathering around laughing, a roar like a jet plane exploding erupted on the firing range nearby.

-0-Seconds earlier

"So building a repertoire of moves and counter measures really is the first duty of a soldier." A young soldier ventured, looking at Ironhide with something akin to worship.

Ironhide considered his words then shook his head, glancing at Epps and Lennox who stood nearby watching and learning themselves. "No." Ironhide looked at the young man. "Lennox, Epps. What’s the first duty of a soldier?"

"You never leave a man or a mech behind," they both answered in unison.

"Slag **yeah** ," Ironhide said. Then he startled, his expression changing from patience to something so startlingly angry that Lennox and Epps took a step backward. Turning around to look downfield where he spotted Ratchet, Ironhide clicked. Or rather more exactly, his programming clicked and he bellowed a roar that rattled the windows of an office complex and the merc's barracks nearby.

The soldiers who were transfixed by the spectacle fled backwards, mistaking his rage as directed at them. Only Lennox and Epps stayed their ground. They stared at Ironhide who had begun to march with fists and fury toward Ratchet and the mercs. The mercs, seeing the unholy figure moving toward them like a gigantic black Tyrannosaurus Rex, hurried away, stopping long enough on their patio to watch him come.

Ironhide reached Ratchet, gripping his arms with his servos as he examined him, even sniffing to ascertain Ratchet's condition. When he had exhausted his direct fears, a secondary blind rage took over as he turned slowly, his optics bleeding to white hot as his face announced his state of mind.

As he did, a Klaxon sounded at the Autobot HQ and for a moment time seemed to stand still. No one moved, nothing happened. Then it happened all at once in the blink of an eye.

At the door of Autobot HQ, half a dozen Autobots came running out, pulling up weapons. then heading toward the firing range at a dead run. A signal had been triggered.

Lennox and Epps who finally found their feet began to run, too, as they yelled at Ironhide.

Ratchet who was finally blinking off the initial blast of the programming that had alerted Ironhide had pinged a distress call to Ops Center. Ops Center getting the distress call from Ratchet of all bots had burst into action, Jazz and his team spacing their weapons to run as fast as they could go. The klaxon was the result of a localized distress signal from an endangered colleague, Ratchet, that drew dozens of Autobots to see what happened and to help.

The mercs who were suddenly facing the worst case scenario any of them would ever face in their lives felt the bottom dropping out of their souls. They stumbled back, tripping and clawing at each other in their haste to retreat as Ironhide, nearly four tons of white hot fury came snorting and growling in their direction, his servos balling into fists.

Optimus Prime hearing the klaxon himself, hurried out, peering this way and that until the running Autobots alerted him that the firing range was the scene of the disturbance. He hurried, too.

Prowl who was in his office with Bluestreak heard the sound, pulled his rifle from subspace and was followed by Bluestreak, himself arming as he ran.

Coming over the hill, climbing over the electrical fence, the twins heard the sound and rolled toward the scene as fast as they could go.

It was very, very fast.

Their swords seldom fully sheathed were full out and ready for combat.

Aerialbots who were waiting on the tarmac for new instructions heard the sound and in the absence of good instructions leaped skyward to provide cover for whatever altercation was happening on the ground.

Office workers, military personnel visiting and otherwise, soldiers, civilians, contractors, marines, airmen and sailors ran from their buildings, the docks, hangars, offices and other places to see what the ruckus was about, clogging the tarmac as they did.

Colonel Fulton who was running along behind Optimus hurried toward the firing range where the commotion seemed to be focused.

At the range, moving on the mercs, Ironhide advanced, his fury so complete he wasn't truly thinking about the carnage he could do. His programming was in control and he had to protect Ratchet and his sparkling. Ratchet who was still in the throes of the program watched Ironhide with satisfaction, his arms covering his spark chamber as he watched Ironhide move on the enemy.

The mercs turned swiftly and ran into their building to slam the door and as they did, Ironhide rushed forward to grip the roof, tearing it completely off. He threw it aside and looked in, breaking down more of the wall, rending it with his bare servos.

The men who were screaming and hollering ran into more rooms in the back, then shooting started as they futilely began to defend themselves with their own weapons.

The bullets pinged against Ironhide, not even leaving a mark as Ironhide rendered more of the structure into firewood, bellowing his rage as he did. It was obvious that the humans were done for against his impermeable armor and outrage.

Optimus reached the scene then gripped Ironhide's arm to pull him back.

Ironhide who was maddened beyond all reason turned around to swing on Optimus, clipping him across the side of his helm.

For everyone coming to the safest point to watch, the titanic struggle was mind boggling. To N.E.S.T. soldiers, it wasn't that uncommon a sight but to the 99% watching it was sickeningly scary. They were enormous and the rage flowing out of Ironhide was terrifying.

Prime was grappling with a force of nature who forgot more about close combat than entire armies probably would ever know. They were a swirl of color and blows that rang out even as Ironhide bellowed.

Everyone, Autobot and human moved back as the two behemoths traded blows. Ironhide landed solid punches as Optimus struggled to grip him. In the middle of it all, Autobots surrounded the two forming a circle to face out with weapons drawn, some pointing up and some pointing out. No one would get closer and hopefully, the two wouldn't get past them.

Until the situation was clear, they were ready to shoot anyone and anything. As jets overhead flew low and high, one hovering overhead, humans screaming and buildings splintering, Ratchet stood nearby watching, oddly calm and completely fixed upon Ironhide.

Inside his processor, this was correct. It was right. It was good. Ironhide, his bond was defending the sparkling while defending him. It was the way it was supposed to be.

Prowl who reached the scene stared in shocked disbelief, then turned to Ratchet to grip his arm.

Ratchet stared at him as if in a trance, then blinked. He looked around as if surprised to be standing where he was. He looked from Prowl to Ironhide and Optimus, their titanic struggle happening before him, then he jolted out of his stupor. " **IRONHIDE!"**

His shout rang out. Ironhide paused as it penetrated his rage, his fist cocked back to punch Prime in the face.

Optimus who was gripping his arm shoved the big behemoth backward, stepping away from Ironhide warily.

Ironhide's optics, white hot with fury began to return to blue, streaks of it threading their way back to him as he came to himself. " **Ratchet**!" he said, moving toward the medico to grip his arms tightly. "Are you **hurt**?"

Ratchet with a look of shocked disbelief on his face shook his head. "Ironhide, what happened?"

Ironhide who turned around in confusion looked at the destroyed barracks and flinched. "I don't … the **mercs** ," he said with a sickened sound.

They came out from under piles of debris, from behind upturned furniture and from around the corner of the building where they had climbed through broken walls and windows to get out. They were there, bore only cuts and scratches and were shaken. Miraculously, no one was dead.

Ironhide, turning in a slow circle as he looked around himself saw the Autobots on his perimeter. He looked up, spotting Aerialbots. Beyond them were humans, some of their faces contorted with fear and awe while others were showing immense respect and humor. Some of them stared at him as if he were Satan come to Earth. He shook his head, mystified, then he spied Optimus Prime. He froze with a look of horrified realization overtaking him. "Prime..."

Ratchet moved to Ironhide, slipping his arms around Ironhide's broad waist, holding him with a defiant expression on his face.

"Ironhide, Ratchet, let's move out," Prime said, rubbing energon from a cut on his helm where Ironhide had planted a fist. He looked around. "Autobots, fall back."

They moved in precision, all of them falling back to Autobot HQ, Ratchet and Ironhide in the middle of the circle as they walked together stunned and confused. Ratchet clung to Ironhide's arm.

Optimus remained, talking to Fulton about the scene and when he had finished, he walked to Autobot HQ and his people. They disappeared inside, then the doors closed shut.

It was silent on the tarmac, then ambulances arrived to assist the mercs who were shaken with minor injuries but nothing major. The conversations would be widespread and constant for a few as the situation played out.

A lot of the military on station would have an immense respect for the bots.

-0-Med Bay

Ironhide sat on a med berth, his head hanging with rage fatigue. He felt drained and ill, something had happened and he was shocked and sickened. He’d beaten up Prime. He was Prime's chosen bodyguard, his closest friend, his mentor and his brother. He’d done this to his brother.

Ratchet stood next to him, his arm around Ironhide's shoulders and a dazed expression on his face. First Aid, running back when the Autobots had begun to leave the scene made things ready and both were hooked up to the monitors which were assessing them.

Prime who was getting first aid for his face looked at them, wondering what had happened. Prowl who was fielding communications from outside the HQ stood beside Optimus, glancing between Ironhide, Ratchet and Prime. "Optimus, Fulton would like to talk about this when you can come out."

Prime nodded but his eyes never left Ironhide. "I will. I want to know what happened first."

First Aid punched a couple of buttons on the screens and machines next to Ironhide and Ratchet and got the answer. "It was archaic programming."

"What do you mean?" Prime asked.

"There's an old program in all of us that syncs when couples bond. It's designed to protect carriers and sparklings from danger. It only kicks in when the carrier or the sparkling is in imminent danger. Apparently, Ratchet's program thought it was and kicked in, sending an alert to Ironhide. Ironhide reacted the way his programming is designed for him. He protected Ratchet."

"So this was involuntary?" Prime asked, slightly more mollified given the drubbing he’d gotten from a berserker Ironhide.

Ironhide looked up, his expression hopeful.

Ratchet was harder to read.

"Yes, it was," First Aid said. "He could no more control this than a human can decide to stop breathing. It will take over and control. We'd probably know more about it if there were more sparklings but it's been a while, sir. None of us are really very informed about this process anymore. It's no surprise that we were overtaken as well by this process."

Prime rose, shaking his head with relief and bruised angst. "You pack a punch, old friend."

Ironhide looked up, his expression stricken with horror and regret. "Prime," he began.

Prime cut him off, smiling ruefully at Ironhide’s regret. "It was not your fault."

"But we have to explain it," Ratchet said looking miserable himself. "We have to make it clear that this wasn't Ironhide's fault, that we aren't irrational and dangerous and that it won't happen again. Hopefully. And we have to do it without telling them why, that he was protecting a carrier and a sparkling." Ratchet shook his head. "Daniels will have a field day."

"We will see," Prime said, his optics narrowing with fury. "I have just about had it with Daniels. If he wants to play rough, so can I.”

Chapter 66

-0-At the scene

Fulton, Prowl and Prime discussed the situation at the scene and watched as Daniels drove up, leaping out of his SUV with armed men along with him.

Daniels had been at the N.E.S.T. HQ on a conference call with Theodore Galloway and had finally come to see for himself what had happened. He walked up showing fury on his normally impassive face. Looking up at Prime, he raged. **"What the hell happened here? I was told one of your machines did this and my men are hurt! Colonel, I want an explanation!"** he said, turning away from Prime dismissively.

Fulton who was the victim of Daniels' daily 'outrages' and demands felt his own outrage rising. "Your **goons** are responsible for this. Your hired goons. They provoked an Autobot who was walking to the firing range. They provoked and insulted an Autobot and the others came to help him. If your **goons** weren't **drunk and disorderly** **all the time** things like this wouldn't happen." Fulton in his ire began to move toward Daniels who began to step backwards. "There were **no incidents** between Autobots and civilian humans before your goons came here, Daniels. I think the question is, what's wrong with **you** that **you** can't keep **your** goons in line?"

"There **was** a provocation. Johnson and Hedges," Daniels replied. "I hear that they're going to making an issue about being sent away from here after being abused by those homicidal twins."

Prowl who felt anger suffusing him at Daniels' remark stepped forward to squat down on his heels to become eye level with the bureaucrat. " **Your** goons disturbed **my** son at the firing range a short time ago. They pulled a gun on him without provocation. I never reported it at the time. I was considering my options. But now I'm going to do just that. I'm reporting the incident. If you take that one along with Ironhide's assault and this provocation, I think a picture is clear about who's making a disturbance and who isn't. Those 'homicidal twins' are **also** mine by the way and they were **merely asking** to speak with those two soldiers about their unprofessional behavior and nothing more." Prowl arose and stepped back, standing behind Prime with a cold look on his face.

"That's **your** version of events," Daniels began before Prime cut him off.

"An investigation found your mercs at fault in Ironhide's assault. There are witnesses for every event that has occurred between your goons and our Autobots. The Colonel is right. Nothing but goodwill has existed between us and the humans here until you came."

"I’ll be making calls to Washington, D.C. about this and I want you to know that whatever charges I can file, I will," Daniels said hotly.

"Then you confirm it out of your own pie hole," Fulton said equally as hot.

"What? Confirm what?" Daniels said, pausing his triumphant outrage for a moment.

"Who you work for."

He stared at Fulton blankly. "What are you talking about?"

"Intel-Martin. You work for them. This outrage is on their behalf," Fulton said, moving closer. "You don't work for the government. You haven't since you got here. You've been on the opposite side of every issue on the table even when it doesn't make sense. You're here to disrupt for Intel-Martin." Fulton stepped even closer, leaning in toward Daniels. "Tell you what, pardner. Why don't you just tell us all what they want and we can cut to the chase."

Daniels stared at him, his expression becoming unreadable once more, then he walked back to his SUV. He paused once there to look back at all of them. "I'll be needing new quarters." Then he climbed inside and drove back to his office space in the main N.E.S.T. building.

Prime smiled down at Fulton who was looking up at him. "I do not think it will be too hard to find out what they want, Colonel."

Fulton grinned without humor. "I agree, Optimus."

-0-Ops Center

Red Alert sat on task and recorded the emails, phone calls and other transmissions that Daniels began to make once he reached his office space. The bureaucrat had been given specially encrypted computers, satellite phones and other technology that wasn't in common use by even the United States government from Intel-Martin. He thought he was safe from listening audials and prying optics but he couldn't be more wrong. Nothing manmade could withstand the technology of Cybertron.

Jazz passed the door followed by his team. Sky Dive sat on the runway ready to take them to Corpus Christi and as they walked out they went over protocols for the mission once more with Prime. Then they left.

Prime followed by Prowl separated at the door to Ops Center as Prime continued in, pausing at the door to Wheeljack's lab. They looked up, Wheeljack and Perceptor and between the three of them came up with a plan.

Prime who was satisfied at last walked to N.E.S.T. HQ for the daily rundown with Glenn Morshower and whatever interested party that had to be there for the related topic of the day. He would later have a conversation with Morshower over an Autobot encrypted line that even Starscream couldn't break about the incident. They would both come to the same agreement. Daniels was an Intel-Martin ass hat.

Prowl assuming command once more in Ops Center farewelled Jazz and team and made arrangements for an audio/visual feed to the Center when they took up their positions around the impound warehouse where Arcee was supposed to be held. While he went through the business of daily issues and events, he organized the formal complaint that he would file over the mercs actions against Bluestreak at the firing line. The more the merrier he thought grimly as he signed off on a training request from First Aid.

Ratchet who was standing in Med Bay running a diagnostic on himself to access the protection programming considered the day's events. Not good, he thought as the diplomat came out for a moment. They had another incident and even though it hadn't been their fault this time, it had come up to the line for Ratchet. They had almost had their great secret found out.

The sparkling was resonating among the troops. Almost everywhere he went, things had changed for him and he knew it was because of the sparkling. Mechs were more cognizant of his situation, pausing to let him pass first less he be jostled, getting up to give him a chair to sit upon and asking about his comfort. It had been strange at first, this feeling of oddity generated by an almost femme consideration but he got over it. They were responding to his sparkling.

The speculation on names was running rampant and even though Toilet Snake wasn't even in contention, it had its supporters. Ratchet chuckled, pulling out a plug from his chest to inserting it into his neck.

Toilet Snake.

It had done his spark good to see Springer laugh like that after his ordeal.

Springer.

He would have to talk to him and see how he was. He was going to be going to Autobot City to run diagnostics on the med bay and he would have Springer help him. He could observe him that way. Satisfied that he had solved another logistical crisis, Ratchet continued to delve deeper into his own programming, searching for the small obscure trigger that would cause a primordial reaction in Ironhide.

The slagger.

-0-At the same time

Perceptor had sifted the scene, taking recordings and measurements, checking the angles of observation so that he could produce witnesses beyond the already numerous unimpeachable individuals who had seen the event first hand at the site, a number that included most of the base and a very agitated Rabbi Chaplain who was determined to speak on behalf of the Autobots. When he was finished, Perceptor walked away and alerted the clean up crew to come.

-0-One joor later

The scene at the barracks was pristine. Six breems earlier, five Autobots had walked silently to the barracks with a box and a small brush. They had picked up the pieces and stowed them in the box. Next, they had meticulously picked up every scrap, every tiny broken nail and shard of glass, stowing it in the box as well. By the time they’d finished, there was only the concrete slab and a neatly piled and sorted stack of furnishings and belongings nearby. They left as silently as they had come.

-0-Three joors later

Perceptor, Wheeljack and Grapple who was called back from Autobot City walked to the barracks carrying a building between them. Behind them, carrying a box filled with odds and ends, Hoist, also recalled followed. They set the building down as crowd began to gather, gathering together to look toward the slab to watch.

Grapple who was explaining what they should do next began with the others to insert steel beams into the concrete slab, drilling holes big enough to hold them. They puttied them in with a sealant they’d made in the lab that held them fast instantly.

They tested the fastness of the girders, then picked up their building. Walking back, holding it over the slab, they lowered it as the beams inserted into slots in the building which they lowered until it was flush with the concrete foundational slab. Picking up a torch with special settings for odd materials that Wheeljack had borrowed from Med Bay, he crouched and began to attach the building's metal rim to the concrete, melting the two together seamlessly.

When he had done that, they gathered up the belongings, putting furniture where they felt it belonged and everything they couldn't understand in a neat pile in the middle of the rooms they had reconstructed. When that was finished, they took miniaturized heating, lighting and air conditioning devices and plugged them into the plumbing and electrical master boards, stepping back to look when they were finished.

Smiling, they then walked back to the HQ taking their box with them. The spectators who were immense in number peered inside, amazed at the detail and care given to the construction. Then they heard someone call out that the four Autobots were back carrying the roof in one piece. Moving carefully so they wouldn't step on anyone, they lowered the roof onto the top of the steel bracings and settled it. Wheeljack welded the roof and wall seams together.

Rising at last, the four looked at the construction with satisfaction. A few brushes of digits, the re-positioning of lawn furnishings on the patio and they were done. Walking back to the HQ, waving and smiling at the spectators who were applauding them as they left, they entered upbeat.

Grapple who was smiling broadly looked at Wheeljack, Hoist and Perceptor. "I **love** to make models. Tell me if you **ever** need to do this again and I will come at a moment's notice."

"We will," Perceptor said with a grin.

Wheeljack nodded. "How about a nip before you go to celebrate a perfect collaboration."

"Don't mind if I do, 'Jack," Grapple said happily as they walked through the rec room together.

-0-That evening after the hoopla died down and day shift was over

Daniels having spent the day bitching to his superiors both in Washington, D.C. and in Houston drove to the 'scene of the crime' to retrieve what he could of his own personal items. His men who were staying in another barracks much to the disgust of the soldiers who were also living there would need to come as well. He wanted to get his own pictures to send with his report to D.C.

When he drove up, he sat in his SUV for a moment as his mind attempted to process what he saw. Getting out, he walked to the barracks, opened the door and peered inside. It was immaculate but for the pile of personal belongings and a couple of pieces of furniture here and there. The walls had art that depicted a city made of metal. He wasn't aware that Wheeljack had Sunstreaker make a small portrait of Iacon for him.

The floors were intricate, metal inlays of a swirling design that he didn't know mimicked the event horizon of a black hole. The doors were hand engraved metal, copper inlays of Cybertronian glyphs asking Primus to bless the residents and all who lived there. He didn't know they were words, thinking them intriguing designs. He walked through the building, each room more beautiful than the rest, each having the vibe of being handmade in a way he struggled to define.

The windows had small inserts in the middle, pieces of glass and metal that cast a rainbow of colors as the sun moved across the sky, sparkling against the walls as they shifted through the solar cycle. All of it was beautiful, all of it personalized and keenly thought out. He felt his admiration for it rising even as he hated those who had made it.

Walking to the front door, he decided he would have to depend on Fulton supplying images of the disaster. Pulling out his phone, he summoned his mercs to come back to their quarters and settle in once more.

  
  


Chapter 67

-0-Prime and Prowl

They lay together, holding each other after the end of a trying day. It was dark long after they logged off as Prime finally left N.E.S.T. HQ and Prowl Ops Center. A shared moment of energon, a gentle caress and kiss on the couch had led to the berth with both of them intent on relaxing the other.

"You defended the twins," Prime said, nuzzling Prowl's neck.

Prowl smiled. "And the world still turns."

Prime chuckled. "I am to assume you are relented on Bluestreak?"

"Correct," Prowl said. "I believe we’re going to have strange bedfellows as in-laws."

"A trine?" Optimus asked as the touch of Prowl's servos stimulating things in other regions in the most gentle and sensual manner rolled through him.

Prowl pressed his face against Prime's chest.

Prime pausing his own exploration rolled up. "I guess that is a yes."

Prowl shuttered his optics. "It's not what I wanted for Blue."

"No," Prime said softly. "But you agreed."

It was silent a moment.

"Bluestreak made up his processor. I can't say no without good reasons and the twins haven't given me any. They've been good to Bluestreak so far."

"Then we should conclude that they will continue to do that," Prime said gently.

"You always see the good," Prowl said, touching Prime's face with his digits, tracing his cheek and his jaw.

Prime smiled. "You did a good thing," he said quietly. "Everyone should find their happiness, Prowl. I believe in hope."

Prowl nodded. "I want a ceremony for Bluestreak, the simple Praxian bonding service because we can’t make the other one now, not with everything that’s missing. His genitors would have wanted it and we have to do the right thing for them. I would like you to officiate."

"Of course," Prime said, kissing Prowl gently. "I would be honored."

Then they didn't talk for a while.

-0-Ironhide and Ratchet

They lay together on the berth with Ironhide on his side and Ratchet spooned against him as he draped his arm around Ironhide's waist. It was quiet and peaceful.

Ratchet squeezed Ironhide. "You aren't talking to me."

"I'm thinking."

Ratchet grinned. "How long will that take?"

"Hard to say."

It was quiet again.

Ratchet hugged Ironhide again. "Ironhide, we agreed to talk always. So talk."

Ironhide squeezed Ratchet's servo. "Nice weather we're havin'."

Ratchet snorted. "You're going to make this hard aren't you."

"Yep."

It was silent a moment.

"You're upset about hitting Optimus."

It was silent another moment.

"I can see that. What mech wants to give his own son a hay maker in the face plates?" Ratchet said kissing Ironhide's shoulder.

Ironhide chuckled. "Underhanded, Ratchet."

"All is fair in love and war."

"It is." Ironhide turned over, moved his arm and they settled again, he on his back and Ratchet sprawled in his arms, snuggling closely as he did. "You feel good."

"So do you."

It was quiet a moment.

"I could have killed those mercs. I wanted to."

"I wanted you to kill them, Ironhide. That's what I felt watching you. By the way, you were an awesome sight, Chaos Bringer. I think Unicron would’ve turned and ran. If he had feet that is," Ratchet said.

Ironhide snorted. "You're just trying to cheer me up."

"I am," Ratchet said. He closed his eyes as the comfort of Ironhide's servo tracing circles on his back felt warm and comforting. "Prime replaced the barracks. He called Grapple and Hoist from Autobot City to re-make it and put it up."

"Good," Ironhide said.

"You really tore that place to shreds. It could’ve been made of paper the way it flew apart," Ratchet said. "I don't know if they're going to keep it up or not but they're now warned what the Doom of Ironhide looks like."

Ironhide smiled slightly. "I think Prime knows, too."

Ratchet laughed and hugged Ironhide. "You protected me and our sparkling. That makes you my hero. Again."

Ironhide smiled, squeezing Ratchet gently. "How is our sparkling?"

"He pulsed me a smile," Ratchet said.

"He let you know he's aware of you?" Ironhide said with surprise. "I didn't know they could do that."

Ratchet slid the panel back on his wrist to pull out the cord. He slid the port on Ironhide's wrist and plugged in. "I saved it for you. Here," Ratchet said, downloading the file into Ironhide.

Ironhide lay very still, listening, waiting and it came. It was small and bright and felt happy. It was a tiny surge, one pulsed to Ratchet from his spark to his carrier's spark. It was soft and sweet and Ironhide's optics watered as he felt it. "Thanks," he said quietly, his usually mud flavored voice thick with emotion. "I'll keep that one."

"You and me both," Ratchet said. "This is a good thing isn't it. I hope its the start of a lot more."

"Sparklings playing at Autobot City, growing up safe, being what they want to be and not what they have to ... that's what I think about when I think of our sparkling," Ironhide said wistfully.

"We need to figure out his paint scheme and his name," Ratchet said.

It was silent a moment.

"You've been talking to Wheeljack and Perceptor?" Ironhide asked.

"Yes," Ratchet said. "I told him I want his face to look like you, pug nose and all. I think you're so handsome, I want the sparkling to look like you."

Ironhide snickered. "Thanks."

"What's so funny?" Ratchet asked, leaning up to look down into Ironhide's face with a slight frown.

"Pug nose," Ironhide replied. "I was shown a story about me that someone on the world wide web wrote that mentions my nose structure."

"Humans? They write stories about us?" Ratchet asked with fascination.

"Hundreds of stories," Ironhide said.

"Tell me about this story," Ratchet said, leaning in to nuzzle Ironhide's jaw.

Ironhide squeezed Ratchet. "The writer is called Optimus_Sue."

Ratchet stopped, then looked at Ironhide with a smirk. "Oh **please** … continue."

Ironhide snorted. "The story is about me and Prime."

"As in being together? As in fragging each other?" Ratchet asked, smiling with delight.

Ironhide nodded. "I think its called 'Two Moons over Cybertron' and it has a scene where we're at a party in the Citadel. Prime's on the balcony thinking about me. He goes on about my nose."

"I could go on about your nose and I did with Wheeljack but don't let that slow you down. Continue." Ratchet settled more comfortably, looking at Ironhide with a grin.

"Well, they decide they're in love or some such slag and we go at it like cyber bunnies."

Ratchet chuckled, then laughed out loud as images unbidden filled his processor. "Who's on top?"

For a moment, Ironhide said nothing. Then he smirked. "It isn't me."

Ratchet smirked as he kissed Ironhide's lips, lingering on them a moment. "I won't tell anyone, Only One."

"You always were a loyal slagger," Ironhide said.

"Am I in the story?" Ratchet asked, tracing slow circles on Ironhide's pectoral armor with his digits.

"You are," Ironhide said. "You're the other love interest."

"Really?" Ratchet asked, his amusement evident on his face. "Was I on top?"

"No," Ironhide said with a chuckle.

"Then its more a true life adventure," Ratchet said, laughing loudly.

"I think so," Ironhide said with more than a trace of self satisfaction in his voice.

"Did I get any action or is this slag that doesn't bring out my full potential?" Ratchet asked, warming up to the story.

"Actually, you and Prime made a lot of monkey noises in Med Bay when I was supposed to be in stasis lock."

"We did?" Ratchet said laughing loudly. "Was there a smile on Prime's face afterwards and a spring in his step?"

"Hard to tell," Ironhide said, smirking in memory. "I was in stasis lock."

"What were you in Med Bay for?"

"I was rescued from Starscream's clutches."

"You were injured?" Ratchet asked, smiling at him with a sense of comedy and comfort he only got from Ironhide.

"Actually, I had a venereal disease," Ironhide said smiling broadly.

It was silent a moment.

"Ironhide, you can't get venereal diseases. Who gave you a venereal disease?"

"Starscream."

It was quiet a moment.

"Ironhide … that's … that's just **wrong** ," Ratchet said before he almost rolled off the berth in laughter.

  
  


Chapter 68

-0-Bluestreak, Sunstreaker and Sideswipe

They sat on the beach staring at the sky, the Milky Way shimmering like diamonds overhead. They’d all three traveled in that vast expanse the called the Great Galaxy heading toward this one small world, a world without any more significance than any other and less than most. But here was the heart of their existence. Here were more of their own kind and a place to stay to have what small sense of a life that they felt.

Sunstreaker looked at Bluestreak's profile, at his face filled with awe at the stars overhead. He felt a sense of peacefulness around Blue that he only got from his brother and then sometimes not with Sideswipe, such was the nature of their bond. Blue was the one who truly 'got' him, the one who accepted him with his moods and internal conflicts. Blue never tried to change him. He could though merely with a look, Sunstreaker thought. He didn't tell that to Blue, unwilling even yet to give away his secrets but he knew he would when they bonded.

"Prowl is willing to go with us down this road," Bluestreak was saying. "We just have to do what the pre-bond asks."

"Six decaorns," Sideswipe said shaking his head.

"Tell me about it," Sunstreaker said with a sour expression. " **I** actually **remember** what I can't have," he said smirking at his brother.

Sideswipe smirked back, then looked at Bluestreak. "Then I'm first."

Bluestreak snickered as he shook his head. "Keep talking like that and Prowl will make sure that you're last."

It was silent a moment as the twins chatted over their link. Then Sideswipe sat up, slipping his arm around Bluestreak's waist. "We have to talk about that, Blue. With three of us, this could get … logistically complicated."

Blue smiled. He certainly hoped so.

-0-Ironhide and Ratchet

"So, I cured your cyber clap and then what?" Ratchet asked.

Ironhide smiled. "We had a threesome."

"No."

"Yes."

" **No**."

"Yes," Ironhide said. "We had it in Prime's big old berth. And … there were sex toys."

-0-Bluestreak, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker

"I know you think this is funny but I don't know that I've ever 'faced in front of my brother."

Sideswipe was perturbed and Blue was laughing.

Sunstreaker was smirking. "You aren't turning into a little femme are you, Sideswipe? I mean it isn't like we're sparklings or something."

Blue wiped at his optics with amusement. "I think you're sweet, Sideswipe."

Sideswipe made a face at Sunny then leaned in to kiss Bluestreak on the lips. He held the kiss, drawing from the sweetness all he could on this, the first romantic kiss he had with the gunner. Blue kissing him back broke it then turned to Sunstreaker. "So here we go. Let's get the logistical stuff out of the way. One quarters?"

The twins nodded in unison.

"One berth?"

They nodded in unison.

"When one of you wants to 'face or I do, does the other one leave?"

They both shook their heads in unison.

Bluestreak smiled. / … we'll see about that …/

-0-Ironhide and Ratchet

"Sex toys?" Ratchet said with a big grin. "What do they think we'd use for sex toys?"

"A better question would be why would we **need** sex toys?" Ironhide asked with a bit of a snit forming on his brow.

"You know that and **I** do," Ratchet said placatingly. "They don't."

Ironhide thought a moment, then grinned.

Ratchet waited with a smirk.

"There was a power drill..."

"Primus. A power drill?"

"With a feather on the end," Ironhide said as they both burst into laughter.

=0=Prime and Prowl

It was quiet in the room as they drifted off to recharge. It was miracle that two such individuals could find each other again across the vastness of the universe but they did. Both were socially restrained, Prime by office and Prowl by social conditioning. Both came from different worlds. Prime from the tenements and poverty of the lower classes and Prowl from the gilded cage of the most rarefied heights of the one percent. Both of them were married to their jobs. Both of them were ambitious and purposeful about tending to their responsibilities. It had taken the prompting of others for them to look past all of that and acknowledge together what they refused or couldn’t manage to see themselves.

They were meant for each other. They were a perfect fit.

Prowl was a product of his caste, highly educated, professionally oriented, willing to pick up skills to make his job better but scornful of the ideas that separated their people. He hated the caste system and fought against it all his life. He hadn’t changed his mind since he was a child. He liked roaming the cast off worlds of his town and city-state as a youngster, worlds that were off limits to his ‘kind’. He had learned a lot, then decided to act on it. He became a policeman, a soldier and finally the partner to the Prime of Cybertron.

In all the ways possible.

Prime was six times the size of Prowl when measured against him. He was brilliant, decent, dogged in his notions of justice and equality, the finest military mind and fighting Prime in their history, almost supernaturally brave, loyal to his people and culture, beloved by his mechs and femmes, a mech that the world had been waiting for since the Quintessans. He was the ‘One Who Comes’, the prophesied savior of The People. That he would get a life on the side was never in the equation. That he would have a sparring partner and supporter in every way possible never occurred to him in the length of his Primeship. Even when he was a youngster working on the docks, it seemed that this part of a mech’s existence would never be his.

Now it was. He was the luckiest slagger in the world. He felt that to his superstructure.

If he had asked, Prowl would reply the same.

Night time ticked by in the Residence as the morning wound its way forward.

-0-Ironhide and Ratchet

"A power drill with a feather," Ratchet said, shaking his head and wiping an optic with his servo. "Continue. I'm becoming aroused as you speak."

"Are ya?" Ironhide asked, waggling his optic ridges.

"Your voice is enough for me to get overheated," Ratchet said truthfully. He leaned down to kiss Ironhide, stroking his finials with his digits. "You're my world, Ironhide. Continue."

Ironhide smiled, pausing a moment to take in Ratchet's soft expression, then he continued. "Well, there was a number of Pennzoil products," he said as they both chuckled. "I remember there was also a scene with chamois rags and a lubricant you can get at Midas."

Ratchet laughed then nodded, "Keep going. Ignore my laughter."

"You and Prime did it a few times, once in Med Bay, once in a broom closet and twice in his quarters when I wasn't around."

"Did you ever come out of stasis lock?" Ratchet asked.

"Yeah. Someone finally remembered where the switch was."

"That would help," Ratchet said, kissing Ironhide's pectoral armor. "Knowing where the switch is … lesson one in mechanical medical school."

"I thought so," Ironhide said with a smirk. "Then we do it a few times, Prime can't decide who he wants to keep around more, so I get upset and run away."

"You big sparkling. You ran away from home," Ratchet said.

"Yeah, but it isn't a smooth ride," Ironhide said. "I get captured and become a sex slave for Megatron."

"Didn't want to get a venereal disease from Starscream?" Ratchet asked.

"You must have read the story."

"I will, but do continue."

"I'm in Megatron's harem along with all the other sexy bitches he's collected all over the place."

"Who are some of them?" Ratchet asked. "Anyone I know?"

"Some guy named Mulder, a vampire or two I think. The twins are there," Ironhide said.

"They **are** sexy," Ratchet admitted.

"They aren't part of the harem. He uses them for target practice," Ironhide said.

"You might let Prowl read this story," Ratchet said.

"He's in the story. I don't think so. I wouldn't want to be the one who starts his next glitch."

"What is Prowl? A frag object in his harem?" Ratchet asks.

"Bookkeeper," Ironhide said before they both burst into laughter.

-0-Bluestreak, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker

"I get to say no if I'm not up to it and you can't get mad at me," Bluestreak said, looking from one twin to the other.

They looked at each other, then Blue with a nod. "Double duty," Sideswipe said, grinning broadly.

Sunstreaker looked at him with a smug expression. "Fragging you would be, Sideswipe."

Sideswipe shoved Sunstreaker who fell over laughing loudly.

Blue looked at him with a grin.

Sunstreaker leaned back up and pulled Bluestreak into his lap, kissing him passionately. Then he sat Blue back on his aft. "Just remember who brought you to the ball, Bluestreak," he said smirking at his brother. "Shouldn't be too hard."

Sideswipe pulled Sunstreaker up and dragged him to the surf, dropping him in. Then he rolled to Bluestreak, picking him up to fling him over his shoulder. He raced as he as fast as he could for the hangar.

Sunstreaker who roared from the surf raced after him, cursing and laughing, relieved at last.

-0-Ironhide and Ratchet

"How did you get away, Ironhide and did you have your virtue intact?" Ratchet asked, prodding a piece of Ironhide's armor that looked dingy. It wasn't. The light was low and it looked that way.

"I was sold," Ironhide said.

"Sold? In an auction?" Ratchet asked.

"Yeah. I had to wear this stupid outfit," he began.

"Clothing? You had to wear clothing?" Ratchet asked with surprise. The most clothing he had ever seen on mechs were cloaks.

"I had a … a harem suit on with veils and all," Ironhide said with a chuckle. "There was a bidding war between Prime and Starscream. They both wanted to frag me on a permanent basis."

"But Starscream had a venereal disease."

"He **was** a seedy fragger," Ironhide admitted, "but Prime won the bidding. So I went home with him

and you helped disinfect me. But when you did you caught it, too, and we had to store you in the backroom against the future when a cure could be found."

"For the cyber clap," Ratchet clarified with a smirk.

"I didn't write this, Ratchet," Ironhide said chuckling. "Optimus proclaimed his undying love and we bonded."

"How did ole Optimus_Sue write that?" Ratchet asked, dying of curiosity.

"We fragged around," Ironhide said with a smirk. "He has this prong that must be ten feet long and I took it up the aft."

Ratchet laughed until he couldn't, then he looked up again. "Continue, Ironhide. This is therapeutic."

"After I got pipe cleaned," Ironhide said as they both burst into laughter, "he gave me one of his inspirational speeches."

"Which was?"

"After the 'ooh-ooh, Ironhide, you're **so** tight!' he said, 'Ironhide, you are the one I have spent all my life looking for'."

"You were standing beside him the whole time," Ratchet said.

"Don't confuse this with logic, **Prowl** ," Ironhide said with a smirk. "Then he said, 'I **want** you, I **need** you' and he fragged me again just to press the point home."

"You **punned** ," Ratchet said laughing loudly.

"No. It's written down in the story." Ironhide snickered and continued. "When it was over, the fraggin' and bragging' and all, he said, 'let's bond'."

"And?" Ratchet prompted, smiling broadly as he waited for anything to happen.

"He opened my spark chamber like it was a can of sardines."

Ratchet slid sideways as Ironhide grabbed him, pulling him back up to hold him as he laughed uncontrollably. When he was coherent again, Ironhide continued. "He opened his own, then he 'looked into my azure optics and raised himself."

"Why?" Ratchet gasped.

"Because … well, let Optimus_Sue tell it: "He raised himself over Ironhide and slammed himself down, the two fusing together in bliss."

"Or spark arrest," Ratchet said before bursting out in laughter. "This must be what those soldiers meant when 'two trains collide'."

"Where did you hear **that**?" Ironhide asked, instantly peeved. **"** I **didn't want you** to know that."

"Ah," Ratchet said, leaning down to kiss Ironhide so thoroughly that his peds curled. "Continue."

"What?" Ironhide asked with a smirk. "Oh, the story."

"The kissing follows the story. So get to it, mech."

"Well, 'their sparks grew, entwining and growing until their perfect love' ..."

"Perfect love? Like ours?" Ratchet asked as he smiled down at Ironhide.

"Close but not quite," Ironhide said grinning with amusement. "'Their perfect love was made complete and they both simultaneously overloaded in a perfect way they had never experienced before'."

"I hope Springer never reads this story," Ratchet said chuckling. "It'll hurt his feelings that he couldn't crash the Prime as well as you."

"He isn't a Chaos Bringer."

"True," Ratchet said. "Is there more or is this the end?"

"Just a little more," Ironhide said with a smile. "I got knocked up ten seconds in."

"Ah, a fantasy," Ratchet said, before he couldn't talk anymore.

  
  


Chapter 69

-0-In the Rec Room

The place was decorated according to Cybertronian tastes even though the youngling soldiers in charge had consulted the world wide web for information about 'baby showers'. This was a new concept since most of the provinces, city-states, sub cultures and clans had developed their own welcoming traditions for new sparklings. Ironhide, being Praxian would have a naming ceremony for their sparkling three days after separation in which they would show the sparkling and announce its name to everyone of importance to the genitors and most importantly, the sparkling.

Interconnections of individuals and their importance in the development and raising of a sparkling to adulthood were a part of being Cybertronian. They bound community and family around a new sparkling and helped ensure that they would have a good start, growing up secure and confident that they were a part of a family, a community, a province, a planet and a people with ancient traditions and mores. The moment of naming made the sparkling a real entity in their midst and summoned all who were present to be a part of that sparkling's life. Until that moment, no one would know the sparkling's actual name beyond its genitors.

Hence, the betting pool.

If Ironhide and Ratchet had chosen a name, they weren't parting with it. Ratchet wasn't Praxian and thus his traditions were a little less formal and old fashioned than Ironhide and Prowl. Even so, urbanite that he was, he held to Ironhide's cultural leanings as worthy and honorable.

And so it was that Ironhide had been dragged kicking and screaming into Wheeljack's lab by Ratchet, He Who Must Be Obeyed to finalize the look and format of their sparkling's protoform.

"The color?" Wheeljack asked, looking at both. "I'm sure you've made your decision."

Ratchet glanced at Ironhide who was fascinated with the format on the computer. "I think," Ratchet began, kicking Ironhide under the table, "that we want to combine our two schemes to make a new one."

"Black for me," Ironhide said, giving Ratchet a gimlet optic, "with yellow facial features."

"Ironhide, our sparkling isn't going to have big yellow spots around their optics."

"Why not?" Ironhide asked sincerely. "That would help them see better with night vision."

"They would look like a … a spotted dog. This sparkling would have a nearly fully black paint scheme and with two huge yellow dots on his face around his little optics … I just don't know about you sometimes," Ratchet said as he shook his helm with exasperation.

"You suffer from a lack of imagination," Ironhide said just as heatedly. "'Jack, put it on the image there," Ironhide said, pointing to the protoform on the screen.

Wheeljack looked at Ratchet then added the spots to the child form. It was hugely comical. A tiny version of Ironhide stared out of the screen, from his peds to his finials a copy in every way. That is, until you took in the big yellow dots that formed around his little blue optics.

"He looks like a dumb aft," Ratchet said. "My sweet little sparkling isn't going to be someone's dumb aft, Ironhide."

Ironhide who was seeing his suggestion in action sort of agreed. But he didn't want to admit it. "What would **you** suggest, you smug slagger?"

Ratchet grinned, knowing a retreat when he heard one. He turned to 'Jack and smiled. "Let's try a band around his upper arm."

A yellow band appeared and was quite attractive.

"How about two more, thin and separated by black bands just as wide, all on his right arm."

It appeared and looked very nice, just enough color to give the sparkling a dashing look and not enough to look like a dumb aft.

Ironhide glanced at Ratchet and nodded. "That looks good."

"I think so, too," Ratchet said smiling with victory. "I just hope that when he transforms into his first alt vehicle that it looks as good with the little yellow stripes as it does in this format."

"He's our sparkling. He'll look awesome. I told you he was going to be at that end of the scale. Awesome," Ironhide said leaning forward to look at the tiny face that was a mirror image of his. "Do you really want him to look so much like me, Ratchet?"

"I like it. You're so handsome, Ironhide, that I think our sparkling should be, too."

Wheeljack and Ironhide looked at Ratchet who was speaking with conviction. Then they looked at each other and smiled, shaking their heads in mutual amazement. "Well," Ironhide said with a grin, "if you insist, Ratchet."

Wheeljack smiled.

Ironhide smiled.

Ratchet nodded as he stared at the screen, then looked at them deeply seriously. "I do."

Ironhide walked out with Ratchet at least a good six inches taller than he did when he walked in.

-0-Corpus Christi

There were a number of amazing cars parked around a warehouse area in Corpus Christi, Texas. They were out of the way, parking among smaller buildings and in small stands of trees awaiting drivers that would never come. A concept 2020 Camaro waited on a side road with bushes blocking sight of it. Nearby in a group of parked cars, a 2020 silver Porsche was waiting. The rest of the team, Smokescreen, Hound and Mirage were scattered around the area waiting for the intel to prove out.

Hound was nearby, his alt vehicle Jeep form blended in against a green building as nearby the less practical and more spectacular form of Mirage, a Formula 1 racing car from the 1960’s, blue and white sat in shadows. Smokescreen, himself no slouch as a Bentley Continental parked just behind Mirage.

The grounds were mostly abandoned of traffic or employees and the fences were locked, the security systems and cameras doing for the government what a lack of people couldn't. They all settled in to wait.

-0-Diego Garcia

Ratchet puttered around his office, feeling the presence of another spark within his own. The bond that he’d shared with Ironhide almost all his life was a part of him that he really didn't think about. It was so much there, so much a presence and the impressions and commentary he got from Ironhide throughout the day and night were things he was used to having around him.

But the sparkling, that was different. The sparkling was special. The feelings he felt for it, the intensity of his love for it sometimes made him pause in the middle of things to stand quietly and feel its emotions. He could sense it, feel it flutter sometimes as it spun around and around his own spark in exuberance and then when it was quiet and seemingly recharging, he could feel its gentle silence then as well.

It was a strange thing and he wished Ironhide could feel it, too, beyond the odd download that Ratchet could give him. He walked to the door, halting as Bluestreak caught his arm from behind. "Ratchet, I need you to check something please," he said, drawing Ratchet back inside.

He spent nearly a breem trying to locate 'a pain' in Bluestreak's knee before Bluestreak inexplicably jumped down and smiled. "Ratchet, I need you to come with me."

Ratchet whose optic ridges rose, nodded then noticed Sideswipe at the door grinning at both of them. Glancing at the two back and forth, he threw caution to the wind and out the door they went, walking down the road toward the Rec Room. Equally baffled and more reluctantly following, Ironhide walked with Will Lennox, Robert Epps and Niall Graham toward the hangar.

Inside, everyone who wasn't on duty waited for them prepared to party. As Ratchet and Ironhide hit the doors, mechs cheered and clapped, shocking them both out of their peds.

Ironhide tried to turn and was dragged back inside as Ratchet walked with Bluestreak to sit on a chair that was placed at a table in the middle.

Around the room, the walls were hung with murals of home, of cities long gone and skies of stars that they’d left behind. Sunstreaker working with others had made them, putting them up as an affirmation that the new life coming had a beginning, a place that was theirs, too, even though it was far away and long lost.

Candles were lit and on the tables, a celebration standby at most Cybertronian gatherings. Energon punch, energon treats and other edibles were on a table nearby as well as presents for the sparkling.

Ironhide, dragged forward to sit into a chair next to Ratchet glowered at Prime who stood with Prowl at the door to Ops Center laughing and clapping with everyone else. Then it died down.

Bluestreak pressed into service began. "We heard that humans have baby showers for their babies before they were born. We have our own ceremonies. We know, **I** know as a Praxian that after the sparkling separates you wait three days to name them in front of the community and family that the sparkling is born into. That ceremony is coming. But we wanted to do something to honor the sparkling's other heritage, its human life here on this world. And so, Ratchet and Ironhide, we want to do this baby shower for you and our first sparkling in our new life."

Ironhide looked misty as Ratchet smiled, clapping with everyone else when Bluestreak stepped back. He nodded to Prime who stepped forward with a smile. The clapping died down and the assembled multitude of Autobots, almost all of whom heard his call and answered it, waited for Prime to speak.

He smiled. "When we came here a few years ago, we had no idea that we would find a home and friends among the humans but we did. We had no idea that the possibilities of sparklings could ever happen again. It pains me, it pains us **all** that most of the Autobots in this room have never seen, touched or helped in the Cybertronian way to raise one.

"It is a blessing, a great moment for us all that this is going to happen. We are going to have babies again among us. It is our tradition to help raise a sparkling as a community, as an extended family. I want you to know, Ironhide and Ratchet, that this tradition will be followed. We are so happy today. We are so grateful today. This is our first sparkling but we hope more will follow. We have the time and luxury, the peace to do this and I am honored that the first one should be the sparkling of my oldest and dearest friends."

The cheering raised the roof as Ratchet smiled at Ironhide who looked misty.

Again.

Everyone finally settled and turned to Ironhide and Ratchet.

Ratchet touched Ironhide's arm. "I think you're supposed to say something now, Ironhide." Ratchet glanced at Bluestreak who shrugged.

Everyone laughed.

"Well, Ironhide is having a moment so I want to say..." He swallowing hard. "I want to say that I had a pain in my spark a long time about this. I had a hard time accepting that we had to be without the best part of us because of war and hardship. I wanted this. I pranked Ironhide out of his peds to **get** this," he said as the room erupted in laughter and clapping. "I'm so happy to know that our sparkling will have such a great community of support and love as he will get from this one. This was so nice, this party. We don't celebrate enough and we're happy to share this with you. Thank you," Ratchet said as his vocalizer fritzed just a little at the end.

Cheers, clapping and laughter filled the room, then Blaster began to play music. Tables were pushed to the edges of the building and people began to dance as they swayed, talked and laughed together.

Springer, one of the many from Mars who came for the party handed Ironhide a high grade and pulled up a chair beside him. They would stay parked there the entire time of the party. That is, when Ratchet didn't jerk both of them off their afts to dance now and again.

-0-Mars

The planet turned on its axis, the summer storms passed across the great plains. The city growing up in the shadow of Mount Olympus was a gleaming thing, the first life that planet had hosted in eons. Today it was quiet, the automated systems and the warning devices keeping track of things for the tenants who were dancing and enjoying life beyond the confines of its thin atmosphere. It would remain calm and uneventful while they were gone. It was almost as if Primus himself was smiling, too.

  
  


Chapter 70

  
  


  
  


-0-The Party

The party carried on late into the morning hours and by the time Ironhide and Ratchet had left toting a box filled with presents for the sparkling most of the senior Autobots were either half in the bag or leaving the scene of the crime to the younglings amongst them. The soldiers begged off about the same time and as they left the music behind to go to their quarters, Ironhide and Ratchet were in a great mood. They entered, put things down and hit the berth falling into recharge like the old slaggers that they were.

It was all good.

-0-Ratchet

That morning they energized then walked back to their quarters off line for duty until midday. Ratchet walked over and picked up the box to sit it on the berth. Reaching inside, he pulled out a ball shaped object with a large number of flat surfaces covering it, each decorated with a glyph. It was an educational toy from Perceptor, a language ball. You would roll it on the floor and it would land on a flat face exposing another one with a glyph on the top. The sparkling would say that glyph and its sound, then it would be rolled again.

It was a work of art just like everything else in the box, for all the things they received for the sparkling were made by hand. There were varying degrees of skill present but to Ratchet they were all beautiful and wondrous. The ball was silver colored with copper inlaid glyphs, a thing of beauty. Ratchet smiled and put it down on the berth to reach in again for something else.

It was a small picture book, hand drawn images of Cybertron set on thin metal plates. The edges were wood, highly polished and inlaid with shells from the Indian Ocean. It was from Sunstreaker. He looked at the pictures, the streets of Iacon, the flat plains and tall mountains beyond as a pang of homesickness filtered through his circuits, a slight sad expression forming on Ratchet's face. He wondered if their sparkling would ever see the stars of their home world again. Hardly likely, he thought, as he placed the book carefully to one side.

He pulled a blanket out that was from the soldiers, a king sized blanket of the softest material. He rubbed it against his face, a smile forming as he felt the texture. Then he opened it spying sweet images. There was a blue dog, a human baby's smiling face and images of toys scattered here and there on the yellow, blue and pink squares. It was big enough to be a nice coverlet for the sparkling. He carefully folded it and set it aside.

Rattles hand carved and covered in verses in their language, funny remarks for sparklings from famous stories found their place on the berth after careful examination. A pair of booties or so they were called came next. They were from the soldiers as well and they were large enough for the sparkling to wear for a while. He would, Ratchet vowed. He would wear the gift from the humans who loved him, too.

He held a rattle, a silver and gold ball with a swishing sound of buckshot inside. He rattled it and smiled, then put it down beside the box. Peering in, he continued.

-0-Ironhide

He sat at the table cleaning a rifle. He had broken it down and was carefully working on all its parts, wiping them down to check for wear and tear. Out of the corner of his eye he was watching Ratchet. They were older and usually by this age Cybertronians were welcoming grand kids. But they weren't living the life that made such luxury possible. They were living in war, running for their lives sometimes, retreating and advancing as the situation commanded. They had also spent time apart, agonizing vorns of separation. Those were the dark times, the times without light for both of them.

Here on this world they had a home. They were building a new world beyond the skies of this one and their sparkling would be the first one born there, to live, play and to grow up, Primus willing, to be a free mech. All the effort and loss, the tears, curses and injuries, the separations and compromises had come together in this place. Earth was the stepping stone to a hopeful future and he was grateful for all of it.

But he was mostly grateful for Ratchet. Without Ratchet's infernal sense of adventure and fun the prank war would not have arisen and they wouldn't be facing a life with that thing that was always missing, children of their own. He could have just heard the comment and let it go but Ratchet didn't. He was a contrarian, his Ratchet. But he was also fun-loving, enjoyed parties and gatherings and could dance like a dream.

Ironhide, on the other hand, was more stoic, more military, more straight forward. He loved to party, too, but he also enjoyed kicking Decepticon aft equally as much. Watching Ratchet look at the things they were given by the people that mattered the most tugged at his spark. Ratchet's appreciation, his attention to the things their child would come to love made his optics mist. He felt all the years lift with their disappointments and hardships at the sight of Ratchet's happiness. He reached for another piece of his rifle with a grin on his face as he enjoyed Ratchet's enjoyment.

-0-In the Rec Room

It was still a work in progress as the detritus of the previous night was scattered all over the place. A decision to keep the murals on the walls was unanimously reached, so they stayed there gracing the big white space with their bold impressive images of a world long lost.

Bluestreak sat with Sunstreaker and Sideswipe sipping energon as they talking quietly. The tension of their lives under the complaint had been replaced with a new one. Six decaorns would pass before they could bond and their relationship could encompass what all healthy younglings desired, intimacy.

Sitting nearby reading a datapad before going on shift was Prowl. He sipped his energon, engrossed in the data before him but not so much that he couldn't watch his son. The happiness on Bluestreak's face was a good thing. He enjoyed it. He also enjoyed the attentiveness and gentleness of the twins with Blue. He knew they felt it and they were honest in their intentions. The thing that bothered him was their attention span.

In his life with them he had admired their bravery, skill as warriors and their off beat humor. They would be surprised to hear that he did but a lot of their humor was amusing and impossible not to enjoy. Most of it was also against regulations, usually, so he had to take steps to ensure discipline in the ranks. But it didn't mean he didn't laugh when no one was around. He did. He wanted them to be a good match, a good pairing and if there was going to be infants, a stable relationship for them.

Then he considered that would make him a grand genitor of some sort. Optimus as well. Grinning, he rose and walked to the recycler to drop his cube into it. Bluestreak waved and smiled and he returned the gesture before walking out toward the door that led to Ops Center. They had a team in the field and that was priority one. His own considerations would come after they were safely back home.

-0-Ironhide

Ratchet watched him cleaning his rifle, a habit of eons standing. Ironhide was a mech's mech, a warrior without parallel in experience, intuition and skill. He trained most of the army including every mech that was on base. He was the go-to mech for Prime, also his first trainer and nothing phased him militarily.

The sparkling? That had thrown him. He hadn't been against it but he was afraid for it. What kind of life could they make for him? What kind of future? Then Prime had pulled another miracle out of nothingness making Mars a future for the born and unborn.

He was Ironhide's brother-in-arms. He was Ironhide's greatest friend after himself, Ratchet knew. There wasn't anything the two couldn't solve together and between Prime's genius and charismatic leadership, his ability to know what to do and make mechs believe in it along with Ironhide's unwavering confidence, skill and his unflagging tireless commitment to making it so, they were here, now. They were more brothers than many of those who shared a common genitor.

Ratchet walked to the table rattle in hand and sat down to look at Ironhide fondly. "That gun glistens so much I can see myself in it."

Ironhide grinned. "If you're going to do a thing, you have to do it right."

Ratchet nodded as he tapped his cheek with the rattle. He considered something. "We have to decide on our sparkling's name, Ironhide."

"You already know it," Ironhide said as he looked up at Ratchet with a grin.

"You and I agree then," Ratchet asked.

"Yep," Ironhide said.

Ratchet smiled, then leaned over to kiss Ironhide softly. "Good."

-0-In Corpus Christi, Texas

They waited through the night and nothing happened. Ops Center pinged them and they discussed the situation. They would stay one more night, then call it. The intel was still holding that Nast would hit the warehouse to try to retrieve the box they believed Arcee still occupied. For now, they had to stay put.

People came for their shifts pausing long enough to look at the cars as they passed them. Some of them tried to sit in them, finding the doors locked and access denied. One of the workers rubbing his hand stared at the Formula 1 racer inexplicably parked in the yard with a wary eye. He had tried to open the door and a jolt of electricity had bit his hand. Stepping back, ringing it to still the pain, he looked around for anything to explain the shock. Finding none, he moved off toward the Bentley Continental parked behind it.

Mirage who was smiling somewhere in his internal array was berated gently by Jazz for drawing attention beyond the usual to themselves. Mirage snorting with amusement commed back that it would be a cold day in the Pit before a peasant would fondle his door handles. Banter ensued among them all and the day passed slowly.

-0-Intel-Martin, Houston, Texas

He paced his floor, the beauty outside his windows meaningless to William 'Bill' Nast, CEO and President of Intel-Martin. He wanted his robot and the feds had her stashed in a warehouse in Corpus Christi. They also had a shipment of guns he was sending to Guatemala but he was sure that the manifest which was faked within an inch of their lives would hold. They would have to find another shipping company as this one was compromised beyond repair.

He had just finished a call from Thomas Jaspers, his field operations commander and felt slightly better. They would hit the warehouse tonight. They would hit it and take the crate away. He had a research facility outside of San Antonio ready to take her and find out what made her tick. The one he wanted, Springer he was called had not surfaced. He had a call in to High-Flyer to negotiate the purchase of that robot. He wanted them all.

Tonight he would get Arcee back, of that he was sure.

-0-Autobot City, Mars

Springer worked on the installation of the last gun turret in the settlement helping to bring online the last of five powerful long range defensive weapons. They would be long range enough to knock a ship out of the sky and he looked forward to being there when it happened, if it was to come. He also looked forward to evening the score against Starscream.

That fragger was his.

-0-Far away

Starscream considered the request by the insect Nast for Springer. The prickle of aggravation just hearing that name annoying his already incensed emotional state. Pacing, he considered the request. Finally, he decided to put it on the to-do list. With a smirk, he walked inside again, the sparkling stars above indifferent to him as ever.

Chapter 71

  
  


-0-Corpus Christi, Texas

They sat arrayed around the parking lot, some recharging, some watching as sentinel duty rotated among them. They were ready for something to happen. Fortunately, it did.

-0-Ops Center, Diego Garcia

They lounged around, the night activity reported from sensors and satellites from around the world slowly coming in. The pause was welcomed on the Command Deck at Diego Garcia Autobot HQ. The Alpha crew had just stepped out, on call should the situation in Texas change and the Beta crew was manning stations.

In the N.E.S.T. HQ nearby, Niall Graham was beating his compatriots in a game of poker, his uncanny skill tied directly into how much the others slacked on their own hands by arguing, eating, chatting and otherwise not paying attention.

"Why do you win so much? And don't tell me you have superior skills or something," Robert "Bobby" Epps asked after tossing his hand in.

Graham smiled, a wholly handsome sight. "I win because you lot fight among each other about how you're going to win."

It was silent a minute.

"No, really," Epps said. "Why do you win so much?"

Graham smiled, a wholly handsome sight.

-0-Corpus Christi, Texas

The sun had set and the temperature was decent, falling from a high of nearly 77 degrees to a moderate low 60's. It was nearly December on the human's calendar and winter, though mild in the south, usually was still a lot cooler than Diego Garcia.

:At least it isn't Russia: Mirage opined as the question of who had the best weather conditions for fighting arose in the bored processors of the mechs. :That was not pleasant:

Jazz chuckled. :It wasn't supposed to be, Mirage:

As they bantered, several pick up trucks passed by, one of them a flat bed filled with men dressed in black. The one sitting in the truck on the street side of the warehouse they were casing had night glasses and was looking in all directions for any sign of human activity.

They drove off and turned the corner. What they didn't know was that they were on the sensor screens of five concept cars and were duly noted.

-0-Prime

He walked from N.E.S.T. HQ after a late conference call from Washington, D.C. The two soldiers who'd been transferred out of Diego Garcia after the confrontation with the twins, Johnson and Hedges were making trouble. They had the ear of their senator, an ultra conservative who'd never been happy with aliens of any kind, let alone the Autobots residing on Earth.

Even though the Autobots had finalized contracts with green corporations in the United States to produce batteries and solar collectors that cost nearly nothing and lasted infinitely including their charging capacities, something that paid their bills and then some, the congressman ranted about costs and deficits, exclaiming that they should leave Earth. Even when the financial burden was being shifted to self-sufficiency, Senator Beau Weaver was unhappy.

General Morshower was being ordered before a Senatorial committee and had called Prime to discuss strategy. There should be a representative of the Autobots at the meeting, Morshower said. They should come and represent what the Autobots stand for, what they've survived and present to the committee and the world who'd be watching the reasons why this alliance was so critically important. He said he'd be there to defend them and to argue for the continuation of the most important alliance he felt that America and the world had ever made. But he felt it would give power and weight to the moment if someone from the Autobots was there, too.

Prime considered the request, found a great deal of merit in it and knew he wouldn't be the one who would go. He was never to be filmed if they could manage it. The strategic value of his anonymity was greater than arguing with politicians in a public forum. Prime had always deferred that to one person who had never failed him. He always gave that job to Ratchet who had always been the diplomat for Autobot affairs no matter where they were.

He walked into Autobot HQ instantly feeling better as always. He continued to Ops Center to peer inside. Prowl wasn't there so he continued to the only other place he would be if he, Prime himself was still working. He walked to Prowl's office and opened the door spying the big winger working as usual. He stood in the doorway and smiled.

Prowl smiled back.

-0-At the beach

A number of youngling soldiers had gone to the beach to collect firewood. The fire sent sparks upward into the dark sky and they were relaxing, waiting for the sun to rise and signal another day. The buzz of electronic conversation was a strange sound in a world of phonetic speech. Anyone who was watching would find it irritating to listen to and impossible to understand.

However, crouched in the brush as he hid on a lip of land some distance away, someone was listening. They were also taking pictures with a powerful camera that was equipped with multiple long range lenses and night vision. They'd done this before and they did it again. The photos and clips were smuggled out of Diego Garcia and sent into the underground of conservative militias and commentators who used them to whip up fears where none existed on the myriad of outlets that they had at their disposal.

Lawrence ‘the Mercenary’ Dobbs, the one who had provoked Ironhide lay on the sand beside his compatriot watching the aliens sitting together, talking and enjoying themselves on a low activity night. It was unfortunate that they should've had someone to watch the perimeter to ensure that their privacy wasn't violated but Prime had considered the matter resolved for now after the incident with Ironhide, a reasonable assumption on his part.

He was wrong.

They took their pictures and were gone.

-0-Corpus Christi, Texas

They came back from cruising the area, watching with their technology for anything or anyone that would make a smash and grab operation problematic. They were stringers for Intel-Martin, autonomous mercs that did for-hire work. That way if the situation went wrong Intel-Martin was free and clear of being implicated.

Plausible deniability.

They pulled over into a shadowed area and after a moment began to work their way to the fences. As they did, five concept cars watched, comming to each other internally their opinions of the merc's skills and effort.

-0-Prowl's office

He sat back, his peds on Prowl's desk as he sipped energon with him, energon that Prowl had gotten earlier. They talked about the meeting, about the need for an Autobot to be there for the show and a number of other details. It was pleasant and relaxing, what Prime had always longed for and never hoped to have.

-0-Ironhide and Ratchet

Ratchet was working on reports in Med Bay as Ironhide sat nearby, peds up, reading a data pad on separating sparklings. As he did, as the information sifted into his processor, he thanked Primus yet again that he hadn't cracked under the pressure of Ratchet's campaign and given in.

This was going to hurt.

-0-Corpus Christi, Texas

They'd rerouted the security system allowing for a snip in the fence to let them inside. With a merc waiting in the shadows near the gate, the other three hurried through the empty parking lot heading for the warehouse where a carefully chosen bribe had told them the 'object' they were sent for would be found.

The Autobots watched, chuckling and critiquing, then Bumblebee, the smallest slipped back into the darkness and transformed into his alt robotic configuration. Jazz who was snickering at a joke that Mirage told him watched as Bumblebee crept over the fence, down the street under the cover of bushes and a low building on his way to disable the pick up truck of the thieves.

-0-Prowl's office

"I don't think Ironhide will be happy if Ratchet does the honors."

"Next to me, he is the one with the most diplomatic skills. He was always our representative in negotiations and he never lets us down."

"I know," Prowl said frowning slightly. "If you decide to send him, tell him and Ironhide while I'm present."

"Do you expect energon to fly?" Optimus asked.

"Where Ratchet is concerned **anything** can happen," Prowl said with a grin.

Optimus smiled, too. "Truer words..."

-0-Ops Center

The Alpha team had been alerted that the thieves were at the gate of the facility in Texas. Optimus and Prowl arose and walked together to the command deck assuming control at this end.

"Jazz, what is the status of your situation?" Prime asked.

:There’s four perps who've shorted the security system and are now lurkin' around tryin' to find a way into the warehouse.:

Jazz's internal communication played over the Ops Center audio system and Prime's responses were directed to Jazz's internal comm system. No one could hear if they weren't directly plugged in.

"What's your plan?" Prime asked knowing Jazz usually had about three which he would tear up and rearrange as the situation demanded on the ground.

:Bee is disabling their truck. We're going to let them get into the warehouse, then not let them out. At that point, I think a well placed anonymous phone call to the local police is in order:

Prime grinned. "You have operational control. Do what you think is best. And when the police come?"

:They're gonna find a lot of really fine rides sittin' around doin' nothin' but lookin' good:

Prime chuckled. "Very well. Keep us informed."

:Will do. Jazz out:

They sat and waited as the commentary of the mission filtered through Ops Center.

-0-Bumblebee

He edged around the building watching the guard at the gate. It was too close to the truck from this angle to do much so he crept away skirting buildings to use an alley to come around the other direction. He crept on his servos and knee assemblies moving low to the ground, utilizing the bushes and shadows to his advantage. The truck was right in front of him, no one was in the industrial park and the guard was looking over his shoulder at the warehouse as if he could see his compatriots from where he crouched.

Bumblebee considered his weapons and tool kit, then decided to take out a small hand laser that could melt metal. He aimed it at the truck, sighting it under the carriage to pierce a tire. It hissed almost soundlessly and went flat slowly. Grinning, he hit the other three and by the time he was slipping through the alley again all four tires were flat.

He moved back to his position which was chosen so that if they ran he could cut them off. He transformed back to alt vehicle mode and signaled Jazz with a ping that he'd succeeded. Jazz pinged him back then concentrated on the three men trying to find an easy way into the warehouse.

-0-At the beach

It had gotten quieter as the youngling soldiers settled into groups or pairs as conversations turned to more personal things. Bluestreak leaned against Sunstreaker whose great arms were around the gunner. Sideswipe's helm was in Blue's lap. They had no idea that the picture of them relaxing together would end up in a congressional hearing in a short while.

No idea at all.

-0-At the warehouse

They entered at last having disabled the building's alarm system and were looking for the crate that had been marked with a Texas A & M decal by their inside source. They found it, sized it up and went to find a fork lift to move it. As they did, they didn't bother to look up. In the windows at the top of the warehouse looking in from outside, four Autobot soldiers were watching. Mirage, Hound and Smokescreen were looking in from the front of the building and Jazz who was shorter looked from a lower set of windows on the other side.

If they had looked up they'd have seen four alien faces looking at them with various expressions as they internally debated which operation against Decepticons in the past was the equivalent to this nefarious but essentially under skilled event. As they debated, Jazz sent an anonymous phone call through a number of localities to the local authorities that a burglary was in progress at the Federal Impound Yard near to the Port of Corpus Christi.

They stood together debating internally as they watched the three men load the fork lift. They watched and critiqued as they came to the door and found it fused shut thanks to one of the many slightly illegal tools Smokescreen carried in subspace for just such occasions.

They tried to jimmy the door open, shaking it as they cursed among themselves about why it wouldn't open. For a moment they yelled intensely at each other, one of them finally dispatched by their putative leader to find another door.

Smokescreen had beat them to it, fusing all the doors shut when they'd entered the building. Coming back together again, they debated shooting the door then driving out with the cargo on the flat bed pick up, sound of gunfire be damned.

As they argued, the sound of sirens in the distance could be heard and the men inside froze in place as they listened. The four aliens in the windows looked outward along the side of the building and saw the lights of several police cars coming up the road. Then they looked back inside, watching the mercs rage at each other as they tried to figure out what to do. That's when the mercs decided to ram the door.

Mirage, Hound and Smokescreen joined Jazz on the other side of the building to look through the windows on that side. The criminals had the crate on a fork lift and someone was driving it after backing it up to allow room to run. They drove it as fast as they could and rammed the door which bent and buckled but didn't open.

Pulling back, they tried again but it didn't open. The crate did and a pile of metal parts fell out. By that time the police had arrived so Jazz and his team fell back to find vantage points with which to watch as they parked and assumed their disguise.

-0-Ops Center

Prime and Prowl sat together listening with amusement to the keystone cop affair transpiring in Corpus Christi. The commentary from the Autobot crew was priceless and they were much relieved when the criminals finally surrendered.

"Jazz, when can you leave?" Prime asked.

:We're going to pull back and go over the rear fence. There's a road there that'll take us past Bumblebee and we should be at the airport in about an joor or two. At that point, we should be home soon after:

"Good work," Prime said chuckling. "Would that they were all this easy."

:You and me both. Jazz out: he said with a chuckle.

Prime rose and held out his servo to pull Prowl to his peds. Glancing at Red Alert, he smiled. "Let us know if any more hilarity ensues, Red."

"You'll be the first to know, Prime," the intense Autobot said, his eyes never leaving the monitors in front of him.

  
  


Chapter 72

  
  


-0-Senior Autobot Daily Staff Meeting the next day

"And that is why we have to send someone to represent us. I agree with General Morshower that this would be a good idea, a chance for us to show people who and what we are without it going through other people's filters." Prime finished, then looked around the table for comment.

He got it.

Ironhide listened to Prime as he explained the conference call the night before, realizing that the senior diplomat in their midst was Ratchet.

Ratchet had deduced that a bit earlier and was already formulating arguments in a subroutine of his processor.

Ironhide didn't have to process anything. He had his argument already formulated.

"No."

They all looked at Ironhide who was sitting forward to look at everyone with menace. He leaned on his elbows and looked like a big evil Kewpie doll. He glared at Prime, at Prowl, at the rest of them and finally Ratchet. "No."

-0-At the firing range

They worked together in pairs taking their turns on the range as they honed their skills. Sitting on the patio of their brand new barracks, the mercs watched without making a spectacle. They made their comments to each other but not loud enough to be noticed by the seven Autobots that were firing.

Or so they thought.

Of course, they didn't know that if an ant burped in Pittsburgh they could hear it in Diego Garcia.

Hound watched as Bluestreak slaughtered targets with a supernatural accuracy. He also listened to the mercs. They were talking about the Autobot's personal side again, speculating in a way that disgusted him. He wondered if they ever talked about anything else. "Those slaggers are talking about our personal lives again. I wonder if they have one the way they fixate on us," he said walking to the firing line for a turn.

"Who'd 'face them?" Trailbreaker asked as he moved to the side to allow Hound access to targets. "Have you ever heard how they 'face? It's gross."

"It's all they ever talk about," Sideswipe said as he held Blue's rifle while the gunner retrieved his tool kit. "I guess they aren't getting any the way they go on."

"You aren't, either," Bluestreak said, grinning at Sideswipe as he took back his rifle.

"Five more decaorns," Sideswipe said with a look of ultimate satisfaction. "Five more decaorns and you'll know the magnificence that's known as Sideswipe."

Groans and catcalls met that statement as they turned back to the range to shoot. Behind them with cameras in hand, the mercs took contraband pictures of the Autobots, pictures that were forbidden to be taken or removed once they left the island.

-0-Senior Autobot Daily Staff Meeting

"No."

"But..."

"No."

"Ironhide..."

"No."

-0-Half a joor later

They walked past the barracks as a group. The mercs watched them while the Autobots ignored them but for Sideswipe who rolled slowly past sheathing and unsheathing his swords as he fixed them with an expression of extreme menace.

When they had passed, Lawrence looked at Todd. "I hate that fucker in particular. He looks insane."

"He's one of those Lamborghini twins. I think he and that white and black one have a thing going on," Todd said as he sipped his drink.

"Makes you wonder how they do it," Lawrence said. "I could make a zillion dollars if I could catch them fucking or whatever they do that's the same thing."

"You'd be playing with your life," Todd said.

"I'm going to try," Lawrence said leaning back to relax in the sun. "I'm gonna get the pictures, sell them and not have to do a damned days work for the rest of my life."

"Did you post those pictures on First-Strike?" Todd asked as he lit a cigarette.

"I did. They didn't stay up long. They almost disappeared right away. But the ones I sent were also going to Beau Weaver's office. I think they might’ve gone through. I hope so, at least," he said.

-0-After the Senior Autobot Daily Staff Meeting

He followed Ratchet into Med Bay with metaphorical smoke coming out of his audials. Walking behind Ratchet, he followed him into his office and shut the door. "You can't go to Washington, D.C. and speak to this fraggin' committee."

"Optimus can't go. I think you'd be more accommodating to your son since you beat the slag out of him the other day," Ratchet said pulling a data pad from a stack then breezing past Ironhide to walk down the corridor to the lab.

"Oh, funny, Ratchet. Ha-ha," Ironhide said. He looked at Ratchet with his head down and neck bowed. He looked like an enraged freight train. "You can't be among these people. You have a sparkling and you're almost halfway to separation. What if someone hurts you or the sparkling?"

"I have you coming along and he  ** did ** say that Jazz and Sideswipe are coming, too."

"I don't like it," Ironhide said obstinately.

Ratchet looked at him as he smiled slightly. "Did you know you turn me on when you get like this?"

Ironhide wavered only slightly. "Well, if you ever want a piece of  ** my ** pie again, Ratchet, you'll tell Prime that you can't go because its too dangerous for the sparkling."

Ratchet stared at Ironhide, deciding reverse psychology might be fun. "Then you admit it."

"What?" he said moving to stand in Ratchet's line of sight.

"That you can't protect me and the sparkling. That you haven't got the steps, the power, the bad ass-ness to do the job."

Ironhide stared at Ratchet, at the cunning devious center of his existence then smirked. "Nice try. But I know about reverse psychology."

"You've been in my data pads again," Ratchet said.

"Damned right," Ironhide said smirking slightly himself. "Self protection."

Ratchet chuckled. This could get fun. Ironhide was upping his game.

-0-Ops Center

Red Alert intercepted the pictures sent to First-Strike-Warriors before they were barely warm on the server. The other recipients were intercepted, too, but the ones sent to the office of Senator Beau Weaver were there long enough to be downloaded along with other data at the same time. Red sent a kill bot to the file and it was destroyed on the server and all the networked computers but the iPhone of Weaver's Chief of Staff was outside Red's reach.

This time.

-0-The tarmac outside

They rolled out of Sky Dive heading toward the hangar. Transforming along the way, Jazz, Mirage, Hound, Bumblebee and Smokescreen walked toward the hangar and home beyond.

Sky Dive transformed then waited for his brother and boon companion to join him. When Silverbolt did, they walked together toward their space, an unused piece of flat land that fronted along the beach just over the base fence near the firing range.

Walking across the tarmac, moving slowly and with great dignity Silverbolt and Sky Dive strolled. They were catching up as they walked, ignoring diversions as they talked, diversions like the mercs.

Walking past the merc's barracks, ignoring them as they did, they stepped over the fence and continued onward toward a flat piece of land that was close to the water giving a sense of privacy the base didn't have. Trees and bushes surrounded it giving sense of privacy that the hangar district didn’t have. The Aerialbots when on Diego had claimed it for their own.

The mercs watched the behemoths go past shaking their heads at the surreal quality of the sight. Lawrence made sure he had his pictures and he would send them that night.

And Red Alert attuned to his prime sending times would be there to delete them before they reached the outside world.

-0-In Love's Bosom™

"I don't like this idea."

"I have to do my duty."

"Ratchet."

"Ironhide."

It was silent a moment.

"Kiss me, you big oaf."

"You're not going, Ratchet and bringing up The Sexy won't change my mind."

"Really? Since when?"

"Indubitably."

Ratchet smiled at him with his servos on his hips. "You're such a big femme.  ** Of course ** I'm going and you are, too."

"I don't want you sitting in front of a bunch of hostile slaggers shooting their yaps off slaggin' ya."

"That's why you're coming, Ironhide. You get to face plant them if they get out of line."

"Prime would have my ball bearings."

Ratchet grinned as he handed over a rifle, a box of ammunition and a sack of grenades. "You put this crap in your locker in the armory. We can't have our sweet little sparkling playing with grenades. What will the neighbors think?"

Ironhide followed Ratchet with amusement as he moved to another corner to sort through Ironhide's accumulated slag. "You can't change the subject. That's against the rules."

"What will you do?" Ratchet said handing Ironhide two more rifles. "Spank me?"

Ironhide smiled slightly. "Might be fun."

"Probably is, but I don't think it's in keeping with my status as an Ambassador and all around yellow aft fragger."

"You have a point," Ironhide said as two more rifles, a sack of cartridges and his spare munitions cleaning kit joined the pile in his arms. "Ratchet, I can't see. No more."

"That's only two corners, Ironhide. That doesn't count that corner, under and behind the couch, the shelf up there with the knives …  ** knives ** , Ironhide. What if they fell off?"

"I'll get them," Ironhide said as he began to totter to the door. "Point me toward the armory, you slagger. I can't see a fraggin' thing."

Ratchet smirked then showed him out, pointing toward the armory three stories below. He staggered in that direction as Ratchet chuckled. "You big old fragger, you." Then he went back inside and did more cleaning as only a good 'brooder' would.

-0-General Morshower on the Senatorial Committee meeting later on

Ratchet and Prime listened to the conversation, discussing the meeting which would take place in Washington, D.C. in three days with Morshower over the communications channel they maintained at a highly secured level of transmission. The agenda wasn't set but they were warned to be prepared for anything.

Senator Weaver of Texas was a hothead who'd be trouble. There were three of his allies on the committee and the rest were either Autobot supporters or Senators that didn't openly dislike them.

The meeting would be held in a space that would accommodate Ratchet's size because it was agreed that Ratchet would transform from vehicle to robotic mode and do it in public. There was so much disinformation out there, much of it from the talking heads of radio and television, that almost no one could really understand what sort of aliens Autobots and Decepticons were.

Ironhide, Jazz and Sideswipe would be coming and they'd be shined, buffed and low key. Protection and nothing more would be their brief. Prime would be involved in the meeting through direct internal comm linkage with Ratchet. All in all, everything was covered. All they needed to do was get on Silverbolt, do the committee meeting, answer questions and come home.

The conference call ended so Ratchet, Ironhide and Prime walked back to the hangar. On the way, they formalized a list of off limits topics. Personal information about anyone in particular was off limits. No one would be there to give permission and Prime would not permit it anyway. Mystery was a good thing in moderation.

Any deep discussions about their religion or religious views, sexual/reproductive information and sparklings was taboo and permission was granted to use that as the reason they were not going to discuss it.

The Allspark and his family were to be off limits. Discretion was given to Ratchet to decide what to do but by the time they reached the hangar they had a good working list.

Ironhide had a good low grade processor burn.

  
  


Chapter 73

  
  


-0-Ops Center

They received the police report from N.E.S.T. affiliated operatives working in the Texas Rangers and it was concise and to the point. The perps had been 'free rangers', hired guns who were there to collect a box. They weren't talking and probably wouldn't. Reputations had to be maintained in their business. Rats usually ended up in a gully with a bullet in the noggin.

Nast was safe.

Prime considered the situation, the exposure of the contents of the box and the probability that it would destroy the ruse they made for Starscream. He put double teams on the communications intercept programs designed to cover everyone involved. He included Galloway after having given considerable processor time to that prickly prick.

Ratchet walked in, paused beside Prowl to exchange comments, then ambled over to Prime. "I analyzed the files you sent to me and I've gathered other information as well."

"Good," Prime said. "The venue is going to be open and you will be able to drive inside it along with your escort. Will Lennox is going to be with you and help with logistical support in case they do not understand what we need. General Morshower will be there and he will make the introductions. Then you will have to transform in front of everyone there including all the people watching on TV."

Ratchet nodded. "I'll give testimony in my alt format?"

"Yes," Prime said with a smirk. "I imagine you will glow."

"Am I not now?" Ratchet asked, smirking back at the big dignified Autobot. Dignified until he wasn’t, Ratchet knew. "All this effort to remain incognito and a couple of red necked slaggers make this happen."

Prime nodded. "Maybe it is time for the world to see us and not just have speculation from our enemies."

Ratchet nodded. "And the others... do they transform or do they just sit and look beautiful? Or in the case of Ironhide, deeply menacing?"

Prime grinned. "They will not transform unless you think it would be wise. I have left that up to you."

"Thank you," Ratchet said.

"How  ** is ** Ironhide?" Prime asked as he settled back in his seat.

"He's being a dumb aft. However, I did shame him into taking his heaping piles of slag to stow in his locker in the armory. Did you know there were fragmentation grenades under the berth?  ** Fragmentation ** grenades."

Prime chuckled. "Gives new meaning to overload."

Ratchet chuckled. "Mech  ** does ** love a good munition."

They both laughed.

Prime regarded Ratchet fondly. "How is the sparkling?"

"Running a race inside me," Ratchet said. "He likes to sprint around my spark. Makes it flutter."

"Is that normal?" Prime asked, his grin dampening a little.

"Totally," Ratchet said. "He's just experimenting with himself."

"He's Ironhide's sparkling," Prime said. "Did you pick out the color scheme yet? He told me he wanted big yellow circles around its eyes."

"Big yellow dots," Ratchet said shaking his head in disbelief. "'Night vision, Ratchet. It'll help him'." Ratchet grinned. "He's a sparkling. We don't have to worry about night vision for a while, I think."

"I would not think so," Prime said with a laugh.

Ratchet regarded him with a grin, then pulled a chair to sit. "So … when can we expect you to set an example and spark Prowl? Or maybe Prowl sparks you ..."

Prime thought a moment, wondering how he could explain himself without causing a ruckus. "I do not think I am the type who could be a carrier, Ratchet," he began.

"Really? What's the  ** type ** , Prime?" Ratchet asked with an amused expression.

Prime looked at Ratchet as he considered his options. None of them were good. "I … I, uh … how do I say this?"

Ratchet settled back, crossing his arms over his chassis. "Take your time. I want to hear this."

Prime considered his options, slim to nothing and cut his losses. "This is why you are going to Washington and not me," he said with a grin. "I think I am speechless for now. Truly. Speechless."

Ratchet stood up then grinned down at him. "You can't slag a slagger, you know," Ratchet said with a chuckle. "You and Ironhide, mechanical mechs and all around chaos bringers to the nth degree. Is that it?"

"Only if you want it to be, Ratchet," Prime said with a grin.

Ratchet chuckled. "You can be a diplomat, Prime. All you have to do is make the slag so sweet people say thank you. Like now."

"I will remember that," Prime said.

Ratchet smirked, then walked toward the door, pausing on the way out to whisper to Prowl.

Prowl looked at Prime and grinned slightly making Prime deeply nervous.

Prime watched as the world turned, all the precision he expected from his team not only met but exceeded. Life was good.

-0-Ironhide

Until it wasn't.

He stood in the wash racks getting a thorough going over. The next day, they’d be flying out on Silverbolt to Washington, D. C. or as he fondly called it, 'The fraggin' Pit'. He’d have to be made presentable because he'd be representing his kind in front of people, some of whom still believed the world was only six thousand years old.

/... slag that … my left aft cheek is at ** least ** that old .../ He chuckled.

He scrubbed all he could reach and when Ratchet stepped in to take the brush, he found himself being cleaned in places he didn't know existed.

Mostly because he couldn't reach them and thus, forgot they were there.

Like that.

"That tickles," he said glancing down as Ratchet scrubbed between his legs. "Watch the critical energy port there, Ratchet. I don't think you want The Sexy to happen here in public. Might give lesser mechs spark arrest."

Ratchet peering up as he snickered at Ironhide. "Is that what would happen? Spark arrest at your masterly ways?"

"Frag right," Ironhide said as he put his hands against the wall to brace himself as Ratchet began to scrub his broad back, his shields and his aft. "Consider with all the 'facing that goes on around here that you're the first mech to spark in what? A zillion vorns?"

"And that's because you're such a virile mech?" Ratchet said with amusement as he scrubbed under Ironhide's arm pits.

Ironhide chuckled then jerked at a tickle. A rap on his helm by the scrub brush brought him back in line. "Of course it is, Ratchet," Ironhide said with a smile, his capacity for bullshit rising as fast as the shine on his armor. "What else could it be?"

Ratchet grinned as he thought about a dozen other reasons but because he was a good supportive bond he let Ironhide have his (de)(i)llusions. "That's right, Only One. If you say so."

"I do," Ironhide said grinning broadly  at his own bullshit . " ** I ** , Ironhide the  ** Chaos Bringer ** ,  ** Ironhide the Relentless ** , the baddest bad aft in the  ** entire Autobot Army ** say so.  I have spoken. "

He bumped his head on the wall as Ratchet pushed him forward to get the underside of his underside. Ironhide grinned, a chaos bringer being fragged around by a gangling yellow aft medico. It never failed to make him smile how Ratchet could bring him to his knee assemblies merely with a glance.

Or a well placed servo leveraging his nearly five tons against Ironhide’s lesser 4.9 metric tons of Awesomeness™.

"You missed a few places, Ironhide," Ratchet said tossing the brush in a bucket to take the hose in hand, shooting it here and there until all the soap scum was gone.

Ironhide turned toward Ratchet, flexing his superstructure this way and that, content to allow it to speak for His Magnificence as Ratchet looked him over with a gimlet optic.

Ratchet who grinned at his antics shook his head. "I don't know if I want to take you into public, Ironhide. You look pretty wonderful all cleaned up."

Ironhide grinned. "Course I do."

"Now we have to wax and buff you."

"What?" Ironhide said, his smile evaporating along with his dignity. "I'm a Chaos Bringer, Ratchet. I don't need no shine and buff. Those slaggers can take this in the raw. Just like all my mechs," he said with a chuckle.

"I'm a Chaos Bringer's 'Old Lady'. You  ** will ** have a wax and buff.  I HAVE spoken. "

Ratchet took his hand and the two walked out, Ironhide mumbling and glowering until he got halfway down the hall. He pulled them to a stop. "What … where did you get that 'Old Lady' remark?"

"The mercs," Ratchet said tugging him forward.

Ironhide tugged back. "The mercs?  ** When ** ?"

"If you promise to be a good little sparkling and come with me to Med Bay for your shine and buff, I'll tell you. I’ll also give you a cookie." Ratchet dazzled him with a brilliant smile.

"I'm not a sparkling," Ironhide mumbled as they continued on their way.

"Could have fooled me," Ratchet said. "At least our little sparkling won't be an only child."

"Oh,  ** ha-ha, ** Ratchet," Ironhide said as they turned into Med Bay together. “ What kind of cookies do ya have? Oreos?” he asked hopefully as they disappeared from view.

-0-Sunstreaker, Sideswipe and Bluestreak

Sideswipe leaned against the wall as Bluestreak and Sunstreaker worked on his detailing. He glowed like a lantern, his shine luminous. Sunstreaker was on his knee assemblies looking upward at Sideswipe's thigh, buffer in hand. He buffed here and there considering what parts would be most noticeable once Sideswipe transformed.

"Are you going to fully sheath your swords, Sideswipe?" Bluestreak asked as he buffed Sideswipe’s shoulder with a small hand held.

"If I have to transform, I'll probably need them out and ready." Sideswipe smirked down at his oblivious brother who was having a slow burn about not being able to go into the limelight as well.

"I doubt that anything is going to happen, Sideswipe," Sunstreaker said. "At least, there."

Sideswipe looked down at his brother spying his wolfish grin. "You break the agreement and Prowl will disassemble you to make flower pots."

"Did I say I was going to do anything?" Sunstreaker asked too politely.

"You better not," Sideswipe said glancing over to Bluestreak. "He better not and you, too."

Bluestreak smiled. "Don't worry."

Sunstreaker shook his head. "I hate Praxian customs."

Bluestreak looked down at him, smiling brightly at Sunny’s angst. "Wait until there's a sparkling."

They both looked at Bluestreak who looked at both of them. It was clear to him the intentions on their faces "Why do you automatically assume I'll be the carrier?"

"Because," they both said in unison.

-0-Ironhide and Ratchet in Med Bay

"And they said that as I was walking by," Ratchet concluded as he applied a buffer to Ironhide's arm. The tension in the big mech was palpable. "I think you showed them the error of their ways, Ironhide. You need to relax."

"You want me to relax? We're hip deep in fraggers here, Ratchet. Not just here but in Washington. You want me to relax."

"If you do I'll let you play with my interface port tonight."

Ironhide snorted then glanced at Ratchet who was grinning as he worked his way upward to Ironhide's wrist. "Why wait until then?"

Ratchet considered his remark. Then he peeked out noticing no one in the main bay. He grinned as he set the buffer down.

Ironhide rubbing his wrist let the panel slide open, his interface cord dangling out. He glanced around as well.

Ratchet opening his own took Ironhide's, then plugged it into the port in his wrist. Ratchet took his own and grinned. "Did you hear what the soldiers said about us? Prowl had to tell Prime and he almost went to the Matrix from mortification."

"Yeah," Ironhide said with a chuckle. "Jazz let me read it."

They stared at each other a moment, then looked around at the main bay beyond like two over sized delinquents. No one was there. Ironhide took the cord and put it into his mouth to suck on it for a second. He took it out then looked at Ratchet who was staring at him silently. "Anything?"

"Nope."

Ironhide snickered. Then he plugged Ratchet's cord into his port. They stood together, the sensations of pleasure coursing across their circuits to end almost instantly into a crescendo of feeling. Ironhide removed Ratchet's plug, then his own. They stowed them as Ratchet kissed Ironhide. He picked up the buffer again.

"Now  ** *that* ** is a 'face," Ironhide said with a smile.

"You won't get an argument from me, Ironhide," Ratchet said with a grin.

"Of course not," Ironhide said with deep satisfaction.

Ratchet laughed loudly for a long time.

  
  


Chapter 74

  
  


-0-The Day of Daze

Prime hurrahed them off, a gleaming red Lamborghini, a gleaming greenish brown Jeep, a hulking yet gleaming black truck and a smart looking hummer search and rescue ambulance rolling toward a gleaming Silverbolt. Since they were representing Autobot Nation, they'd taken a bit of care in their appearance and as such, the sun glistened more brightly in their direction.

Rolling up, they parked as the ramp door closed, the four of them transforming to root mode as Silverbolt took off. They were heading straight for a secured landing at what was now called Joint Base Andrews Naval Air Facility Washington, the old Andrews Air Base. It was about eight miles from D.C. and used to accommodating very strange personnel, some of which were robotic aliens.

-0-On the road. Again: Ironhide

Ironhide sat in the midsection of Silverbolt's hold, his attention paid to everything including Will Lennox sitting in the corner reading a novel on his new Kindle. He himself was going over the schematics of the facility where they’d be ** ***ON FRAGGIN' DISPLAY** ** ** **LIKE ZOO ANIMALS!** ** ** ***** **

Security was supposed to be tight and already commentary coming over the broadcast channels that were monitored day and night at Autobot HQ and N.E.S.T. HQ spoke about possible problematic areas of the situation. Apparently, there were militia people coming to town with arms on display to register their opinions of the situation. There were crowds of supporters, detractors and the curious that had come early and staked out claims to the area.

That didn't count the number of reporters and news services that were there to get a glimpse of  ** **FRAGGIN' ALIENS!** ** and tell the world in deep breathless prose what they thought about the 'unknowable impenetrable strangeness of the universe'.

/... they don't know the half of it .../

There’d be groups of people who were protesting the idea that they were as old as the Autobots said they were since they believed that the Earth was only six thousand years old. There were those there who were prepared to attack them for 'being gay' because apparently their God hated 'fags'.

That group gave Ironhide pause. His own species didn't have an emphasis on gender one way or the other. They not only didn’t care but most of them didn’t even know they should. There were femmes but they were an extremely tiny portion of their population. Why, he didn't know. He hadn't thought about that fact until now. It just was.

They didn't need two opposite genders to reproduce. Ratchet was proof of that. The Matrix Prime carried was another and so was Vector Sigma, the Well of Allsparks and the Allspark Itself among other things. If mechs didn't hook up there’d be no one to frag. And if no one could frag, then there would've been a war a lot sooner than this one just from the pent up aggravation of enforced mechanical celibacy.

He grinned. He and Ratchet had that part of things covered  ** *just fine* ** , thank you very much. He glanced at Ratchet who was going over data on the panel members in his processor  then grinned again. Yes, they were  ** *just* ** fine and dandy on that score.

There would be science geeks and personality freaks there and a few were already being carted off according to the news feed running in a security program off his main processor. It highlighted threats and oddities from a specified list he'd created every time they went on a run, gleaning from the constant stream of words that swam in threatening to drown him only the pertinent details.

A lot of strangely dressed individuals, their images surfacing into his thought process were there as well wearing odd alien looking costumes. A group calling themselves Luddites were there to protest against 'the rise of the machine' or some such slag.

He frowned. /... we aren't  ** machines,  ** slaggers … we're mechanical but we aren't machines .../

A number of people flogging their own causes were also there holding signs as they milled around. Some of them didn't want people to 'tread' on them, as if he would he considered and others just wanted them out because they were apparently part of some socialist plot to take over the world. He shook his head then leaned back. When they got there this was going to be a zoo.

The ones that worried him, the gun toters were the ones he began to zero in on now, pulling up then isolating their images for his ‘clear and present danger’ file.

-0-Andrews Air Base etc, ibid, op-sit

Silverbolt touched down and taxied to the VIP landing area where the 'must protects' always landed. There were several jets from other countries, their diplomats already taken away as Silverbolt slowed to a stop. A number of N.E.S.T. people were there to assist everyone through the gate led by Will Lennox who sat in Ironhide.

Ironhide who was leading off with a full escort of police cars and motorcycles was followed by Ratchet, then Sideswipe and finally Hound who's sensors were laid wide open. They made their way to the gate passing through into the glare of television cameras both stationary and airborne.

Lennox who was sitting in Ironhide felt his tension. "You alright, 'Hide?"

"No."

"It'll be okay." Lennox patted Ironhide's dash.

"No."

Lennox smiled as he sat back in the best most comfortable seats in a vehicle he ever sat on as he watched people outside try to come up and look inside the truck. They made their way to the highway and were on their way. Apparently, Ironhide found out there was a traffic light perk for VIP's that allowed nothing but green lights all the way to the venue. It was surrounded by massive crowds, the streets and the venue itself as news people there and overhead the drone of helicopters carrying news people there could be heard. It was unnerving but they continued as Ratchet chatted with the group, encouraging them all to *****BE ON YOUR BEST BEHAVIOR, IRONHIDE*!****

They crossed the parking lot, running a gauntlet of people, an ocean of sound and a lot of crazy that blurred around them. By the time they made their way around to the back of the Walter E. Washington Convention Center, Ironhide's tension level was greatly elevated.

The party paused in the small parking lot where they were led as a group of military officers, N.E.S.T. people, FBI and venue officials waiting for them came forward. Lennox leaned out as the window rolled down by itself to discuss the route inside for their party as all the others there looked at them with awe, a few with fright but most taking pictures with their cell phones and cameras.

Selfies in front of the trucks would be on Instagram and Facebook in seconds.

With the details clarified, Lennox got out and began to walk to the ramp that was waiting to take them inside. The venue had cleared so that the corridors making the transit into the building would be as easy and as wide as possible.

Ironhide whose sensors scanned the area for nearly ten miles in all directions followed slowly with the others coming up behind. The fit was reasonable and by the time they reached the open area of the hearing, the crowds were back and so were the cameras. The flash of lights was incredible so Ironhide filtered down his optics, warning the others as well. He paused before the entrance inside to take in the view.

Senators were sitting at a dais that held tables and chairs for them and their stuff. In front of them sitting at a table with several aides, General Glenn Morshower, Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff waited. He rose to walk toward Lennox. The two talked together a moment in the mass of interested attendees. Then Morshower nodded to Ironhide as the talking heads playing in the background of Ironhide's processor made much of a man talking to a 'truck'.

/...  ** I'm not a truck, you slaggers ** …  ** I'm an Autobot ** …  ** **A FRAGGIN' CHAOS BRINGER** ** **!** .../

Morshower moved back to the table to stand as Lennox gestured Ironhide to follow him. The room was hushed, the several hundred humans inside transfixed by the spectacle of sentient vehicles arriving in their midst. A large black GMC Top Kick pick up truck with stacks giving a roar as it rolled down and across the floor came to a stop in front of the panel. He turned slightly and drove to the far side of the room to point toward the crowd when he parked.

The next vehicle was a yellow and black Hummer Search and Rescue vehicle who drove in confidently and parked behind General Morshower. The next vehicle, a luminously beautiful red Lamborghini rolled in to stop behind Ratchet and cover the middle of the room. A gleaming late model Jeep rolled in, then turned sharply to face the side of the room nearest the entrance they used before shutting down its engine.

It was quiet a moment, the only real sound the clicking of cameras as everyone studied the four vehicles parked in the room. It was obvious that no one was driving them and that they were driving themselves. It was also obvious that they were the least likely looking aliens ever imagined in these parts.

The committee was silent for a moment, then Senator Hoxley, an Autobot supporter cleared her throat. "General Morshower, I don't know how to do the honors. Can you be of assistance?"

Morshower nodded then walked to Ratchet, moving to the door. A window came down so he leaned inside talking for a moment to no one in particular. Then he stepped back to walk to his seat to sit as he re-positioned the microphone in front of himself.

"Ladies and gentlemen, it is my great great honor to present to you Ambassador Ratchet of the Autobot Army of Cybertron, Chief Medical Officer of the Autobot Armed Forces and the personally dispatched diplomat of the Matrix bearer of Cybertron, Optimus Prime." Then he leaned back in his chair to enjoy the show.

-0-Diego Garcia

They stood and/or sat in front of screens, from the mercs and Daniels to the N.E.S.T soldiers, civilian employees and Autobots. From the minute that Silverbolt had set down at Andrews, the focus of Diego beyond the on-duty personnel was to find a screen and plant themselves. Not only were the Autobots on the line, so was Diego Garcia, its personnel and the mission they so deeply believed in and slaved to achieve.

Ops Center in both places was crowded with spectators, all of them waiting to see what would happen. For the Autobots, it was a way to determine the scope and character of a species they were still learning about. Whether they could continue to protect humans here would depend on what happened today. Public opinion depended on this moment.

As Prime sat and watched, he was joined by another who had a great stake in the outcome. He was joined by Sam Witwicky, the Allspark.

-0-Walter E. Washington Convention Center Hearing

For a moment, nothing happened and then it did. Ratchet, a mild mannered appearing hummer began to transform. Unwinding, unbending, reshaping and undoing, body parts slipped and slid, moving here and there as a humanoid figure began to take shape. He was transforming slowly so the humans could see it better. Usually when they transformed it was almost faster than the optic could follow and sometimes muy dramatic in presentation.

Both were missing today.

For Will Lennox, it was just Ratchet. He'd seen nearly all the Autobots shift back and forth for a long time and it was as amazing to him as it probably was to anyone else but he wasn't overcome. He was just immensely, intensely impressed.

He'd warned his wife just before landing that the hearing would show strange things and as he pulled his phone out to check the messages, there were two. One was from his wife and the other his parents. He smiled as stowed it again to watch Ratchet as he finally finished his transformation.

Ratchet turned around to look at the panel members who were staring at him with shock and something akin to awe. Lanky and tall, Ratchet stood a bit over twenty feet tall, five feet shorter than Ironhide and nine or ten feet shorter than Prime. He had bright blue optics and a sweet expression on his face which were expressive and exuded intelligence. He was massive, enormous and as he stood in place staring at them with curiosity, they stared at him the same way.

Then Morshower arose to walk to him.

Ratchet leaned down, kneeling for the general.

"This open space beside me is for you, Ratchet," Morshower said quietly. "If there is more you need you can tell me now and I will get it arranged."

Ratchet looked at the open space next to Morshower's table that had a low metal bench for him to sit on. Beyond that were arrays of vocal listening dishes that would be trained upon him to allow him to be heard. He looked at Morshower. "It appears to be adequate," he said with a smile.

Morshower nodded then moved back to his table, watching with amusement as Ratchet rose again to walk to the bench, a very mild rumble heard and felt under his peds which he placed as carefully and lightly as he could in this, a floor not built to Autobot standards of support.

He sat down carefully, folding his long legs and settled rather comfortably as he considered the people before him. There were twelve... four, very pro Autobot, five with few opinions one way or the other and three that were virulently anti alien.

Morshower sat then cleared his throat. "Madame Chairwoman, Ambassador Ratchet and I are both open to questions about the Autobot garrison and our joint military operation that fall within public purview. Some, of course, are classified and thus won’t be operational for discussion."

Senator Andrea Hoxley of California nodded then turned her gaze to the impassive face of the Autobot before her. "Um, I would like to say welcome to our hearing, Ambassador."

Ratchet who was grinning slightly nodded his head. "It’s my pleasure, Senator, I assure you."

In a truck nearby  with every possible internal device  he possessed focused outward, Ironhide of Cybertron agreed. /... slag  ** *yeah* ** , fraggers .../

  
  


Chapter 75

  
  


-0-At the Walter E. Washington Convention Center

Ratchet smiled as he waited fully aware that cameras were on him from every possible angle short of up his aft. Waiting patiently, he listened to Chairwoman Hoxley argue with the biggest obstacle on the panel, Senator Beau Weaver of Texas. He considered what he knew. That Senator never met a donation he didn't want to lick. He believed that the Autobots were a dangerous force that if they were allowed to stay would take over the world and enslave them.

He was a friend of money.

He was an embracer of every wacky movement in conservative politics that came blowing past.

He was addicted to the camera.

They settled their dispute so Senator Hoxley began. "Ambassador, I was hoping you could give us more information than we currently have about your species and the conflict that's dividing your people."

Ratchet nodded. "We're from Cybertron, one of the rarest types of planets in the universe. Its a metallic planet with some organic components. Because its a metallic planet the lifeforms there are metallic in composition because that is our course of evolution. We’re autonomous robotic entities or Autobots as we prefer. Our planet which is about 900 light years from here was once peaceful but a divide occurred over political differences and the growing scarcity of our energy source, energon.

"There were also enormous and explosive long term social divisions, those who felt entitled to everything, the smallest part of our population and those who made the wealth and were denied it, the greatest portion. There are two major factions in the civil war that inevitably erupted out of this, ours, the Autobots and our foes, the Decepticons."

"What's the difference between the two factions. I'm asking so that the information that comes out of this committee is accurate. There's a lot of disinformation in the public right now."

Ratchet nodded. "I appreciate the opportunity to clear up any perceptions that may be inaccurate today. The Decepticons are interested in domination, annihilation of foes and control of independent worlds. They don't care about our own people and kill them when it suits their needs or just because they like it. They goaded entire city-states to nuke each other to create a diversion at one point in the war. The fact that millions were killed by doing so wasn’t part of their calculations. Given that, you cannot expect them to embrace you. Who are you to them? Why would they care about you and your condition when they didn’t care about the species they belong to? Anyone without concern for their own doesn't have concern for others.

"They don't have an appreciation for life, of the right for species to be free, to determine their own fate and they don't have a respect for anyone who has the audacity to oppose them when they come. They kill those who oppose them without mercy The moment you give them entry they will enslave you and kill anyone else who doesn’t support their purpose. If you can’t work, you’re dead. If you’re too young or too old, you’re dead. It’s happened over and over again. They believe in slavery, not freedom. They cannot be trusted. Ever.

"The Autobots on the other hand believe in the right for all sentient beings to be free and to determine their own futures. Our philosophy encompasses life and inherent rights for all beings and worlds. We believe that all life everywhere needs to be free and if endangered, protected."

"The Autobots … were they the armed forces of your world or did the two groups become factions out of some other source?" she asked.

"The Autobots grew out of the workers and civilian population of Cybertron who wanted a better life and wanted to preserve our people against tyranny and violence. The Armed Forces supplied a great deal of the Decepticons, especially the Seekers, though not all soldiers and air personnel became Decepticons. Seekers fly and can transform into planes and other flying machines."

"Can you fly?" she asked.

Ratchet grinned. "I have before to varying degrees of success but no, I'm not designed for flight. There are Autobots among us who can fly and my colleague, Sideswipe can fly short distances due to enhancements." Ratchet glanced back, then looked at the committee. "He has the Lamborghini alt vehicle form that you see behind me.

"Understand, we can transform into many different things and the formats that are chosen either suit our jobs and size or appeal to us in some fashion. I've noticed the younger the Autobot, the flashier the alt form."

"He's an Autobot," Hoxley said with a slight smile. "I know that you are and that the … vehicles behind you are Autobots … sentient beings, but its hard to fathom. When we think of alien lifeforms coming to Earth, cars and trucks don't naturally spring to mind."

There was laughter around the room and the mood was light, electric and fascinated. Ratchet had the room.

Ratchet grinned as he nodded in agreement. "We're an unusual species, the only one like us that we've ever encountered, though there are some species that are metallic in a different way and some that are part organic and part metallic. Even with all that said, no one else is can transform to other shapes like us. At least, so far. Let me show you."

Ratchet looked over his shoulder and over his internal comm system asked Sideswipe to transform. As everyone watched, the Lamborghini changed, twisting and turning, emerging from a vehicle into the robot format that he usual retained, a fearsome exotic body shape. "I asked Sideswipe to change so that you can see that we are what we are. He has two preferred conditions for his feet. Show them, Sideswipe."

Sideswipe who standing quietly, his swords sheathed completely as Ratchet had asked him to do if called upon to change tried to look as benign as he could. He reversed from peds to skates, to peds again. It was oohed and ahhed by the crowd. He smirked at Ratchet as he did.

Cameras clicked in a flood of light, then Ratchet grinned. "Thanks, Sideswipe."

Sideswipe glanced around with a smirk, then reversed the procedure to revert to his vehicle mode to sit as quietly as before.

"That was … I don't know what to say," Hoxley said speaking out loud what the committee thought.

"It takes getting used to, I'm told by the N.E.S.T. soldiers," Ratchet said with a grin. "But they also tell me it never gets old."

Hoxley grinned. "I can imagine."

-0-Ops Center, Autobot HQ

"He's going to be insufferable," Sunstreaker said shaking his helm in disgust. "He'll be in all the papers and it'll be awful."

"It could just as easily have been you," Bluestreak said as he slipped his arm around Sunstreaker's shoulders. Sunny tugged Bluestreak closer to settle him in his lap as they continued to watch, the camera every so often panning to Sideswipe. "Insufferable."

Bluestreak smirked. Sunny was sometimes hilarious.

-0-At the hoedown in D.C.

"I would appreciate a concise explanation of why you and your colleagues are here on Earth, Ambassador. Why are you and the Decepticons here?"

:You have discretion, Ratchet. Go lightly on the Allspark but tell them:

The internal com from Prime took only a slight moment, then Ratchet began. "We have an artifact that confers a great deal of prestige and power to our people. It also confers the Primeship on the mech who's chosen and thus it's powerful and symbolic to our good order. It's the greatest artifact in our culture. An icon revered by The People and thus granting reverence to the bearer of It’s public portion, the Matrix of Leadership, the Autobot Creation Matrix.

"During the conflict, Megatron tried to take control of It and use Its power and prestige against us. Our Prime, our world's political and military leader had to save It by sending It into space depriving Megatron and the Decepticons from possessing It. With the power It contained It could destroy worlds and enslave entire galaxies.

"It disappeared and the war continued. Without the Allspark as It's called we were a dying people because a great deal of our well being and prosperity is ensured by Its presence. The psychological comfort It gives is hard to put into words, so great is the love for It among our people.

Megatron left Cybertron with a contingent to look for It. He was separated from them and landed here becoming entrapped in the ice at your pole when his telemetry was interrupted by the magnetic field in the north.

"He’d found the Allspark, following Its trail to the arctic where It had landed, too, for reasons no one will ever know. Your people held both of them. We were chasing It, too, to help our people for the greatest part of nine million of your Earth years to make sure that Megatron never controlled It. No one outside of us, the Autobots, can hold It safely. That led us here as well."

"Nine million years? Are you talking about yourselves or someone who started the search which you finished?” she asked. The room was as still as just before a lightning storm as they listened to Ratchet with fascination.

“No, Senator,” Ratchet said as he considered his answer. “We’re a tough people who once we get to a certain age remain fixed there unless life is overburdened. We don’t age like you do. We were the ones who launched It and we were the ones who looked for It.”

It was silent a moment as everyone took in what was confessed as immortality, then she continued. “The Allspark was destroyed then at Mission City, correct?" Hoxley said. "Why is this conflict still here?"

Ratchet considered Sam Witwicky, the living Allspark and began to formulate an answer that didn't include him. "The Allspark was destroyed seemingly but for a fragment. Understand, the Allspark cannot be destroyed. It can only transform. Thus, It exists and always will. The anger and vengeance that Megatron and the Decepticons feel about this defeat wasn't.

“The word has gotten out into their enslaved empire that they **can** be defeated. It’s becoming a disaster for them, this whole business. That means they have to fix it and with that comes whatever level of punishment and punitive damage they deem necessary to correct this anomaly.

"Enslaved worlds are taking heart. If they don't subdue ** this ** one, if they let  ** this ** one defeat them and not exact subjugation, then their empire will fall apart.  It already is according to new bots that have arrived here.  That's why th e Decepticons are still here.  They’re trying to tidy up a disaster and they won’t go until they have whatever cost it takes. "

"And your part in all this?" she asked.

"We're here to protect you against them. We're what it takes to battle them back. You're out of their league, I'm afraid. For you to battle them alone would be to invite disaster and enslavement. Other worlds have tried, many of them more greatly advanced than yours and all of them have failed. We don't wish for you to fail because this isn’t your fault to have the two land here. We wish to assist and stand with you against them so you won't fall and become enslaved."

-0-Ops Center, Autobot HQ

"Nice and concise," Jazz said leaning back in his chair.

"Enough information," Prime said. "Sam ca not be brought into this."

"No," Sam said sitting between them. "Sam can't."

Prime smiled and Jazz chuckled.

-0-At the thrilla in … D.C.

"You’ve taken part in a lot of interdictions of Decepticon activity on Earth, much of which is classified. Tell us more about the foe and their aims, particularly any individuals that may be involved in this if you know them."

Ratchet glanced at Morshower who was nearby listening to the questions. He nodded in encouragement. "I won't reveal details of classified events but to say that they wish to sow division between Autobots and humans is to understate their intentions. They want to drive a wedge so great that it’ll cause the unthinkable. It would mean that you’d go the distance alone. The leader at the moment is a Seeker called Starscream," Ratchet began. "He's a Seeker, a very smart and dangerous individual who was Megatron's second-in-command."

"Your names," Hoxley said breaking in a moment. "I'm sorry to interrupt but your names are unusual. Starscream, Sideswipe. Could you explain a little about your names please and then continue. I apologize for the interruption but I'm fascinated with your names."

He grinn ed . "Our names in our native language are unpronounceable by most organics. I don't believe that it's physically possible for your species to ever be able to speak our language.  I’ve yet to see it happen among organics.  It  ** might ** be possible but I'd be greatly surprised. Therefore, we've spent a bit of effort to find near matches of what our names are in your own language and we've learned your languages from the World Wide Web.

“Sideswipe has a name in Cybertronian but you can't pronounce it. His name equivalent in English is Sideswipe. More or less," Ratchet said. "Our names are designed to mean something, for us to attain because of them or they're a designation of beauty or history. What that might mean with a name like Sideswipe or Ironhide is understandably vague but I assure you names have great meaning in our culture."

She nodded. "I find them fascinating. Your flight over to the United States was on a jet names Silverbolt."

Ratchet nodded.

"That's a beautiful name. Please continue. I apologize for interrupting but where I can seek clarification and information for our people I will."

Ratchet nodded. "A noble aspiration," he said. "Starscream is a Seeker and a very cunning, very intelligent, utterly unscrupulous individual. He's leading the faction now and he's the one trying to distribute our weapons and other technology to shady humans who want to use it against you and your kind. He was Megatron's sub commander and he was Air Commander of the Seeker divisions in the Cybertronian Armed Forces. He's a bad sparkless individual."

"Sparkless?" Hoxley asked.

"Soulless," Ratchet answered simply.

"I would like to know more about your Prime," she asked.

"Our people have a leader that's a political and moral figure with enormous prestige and influence. There have been seven of them previous to our current one, Optimus Prime. He was chosen to be leader of our people and was so during the outbreak of the revolution begun by Megatron. It was so bad that the Senate conferred onto Optimus the mantle of Commander of the military. That was never done before him.

“He's our leader, our inspiration and rallying point. He's as good an individual, as respectful of others, as smart, strong and decent as anyone I've ever known. Our people follow him because he's our beacon. If he were a lesser being he would have called us to leave and we would go. But he understands that the situation brought about by holding Megatron without his consent, something you didn’t understand, will never go unaddressed by the Decepticons. They never forgive so Prime and the rest of us are here to protect you."

"He couldn't come today," Hoxley asked.

"No," Ratchet said. "He couldn't. But he sends his most sincere regards."

The conversation continued as others took up the questioning, one by one asking what they needed while Ratchet answered them all. He spoke with humor and knowledge, telling the story of their people, the journey they'd made to get to where they were and their willingness to stay and protect Earth against an unforgiving enemy. By the time they reached Beau Weaver, the audience was on Ratchet's side, fully and solidly.

Then Beau Weaver got his turn.


	4. Part Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> see part one, continuous story

Chapter 76

  
  


-0-Walter E. Washington Convention Center Hearing

Then Thomas ‘Beau Weevil’ Weaver got his turn.

"Mister Ambassador … you're a mister, correct?" Beau Weaver, Senator from the Great State of Texas asked.

Ratchet nodded. "Correct."

"Mister Ambassador, I'd like to talk about things that the other committee members haven't asked. I would like to talk about your philosophy, religion, your personal habits and other things that might help all of us to understand you better than before."

"It's forbidden for me to talk about the personal habits of others, even myself to a degree and our religious beliefs as well as a number of other things that deal in the personal realm of our lives. It's a taboo area outside of our own kind. Saying that, however, I will do my best to tell you what I can."

Weaver stared at Ratchet a moment, then tapped the table with a pen. "You're here to answer our questions. I'd think you'd want to clear up any misunderstandings and promote the proper thinking in regard to your people, especially those areas that our people know the least. It would help promote the relationship better if we understood you fuller."

-0-Ops Center, Autobot HQ

"Oh, oh. Dumb aft alert," Jazz said.

Sam, Prowl and Prime nodded.

-0-Ops Center, N.E.S.T. HQ

"Oh, oh. Dumb ass alert," Colonel Fulton said.

The entire team on the floor nodded.

-0-Walter E. Washington Center Hearing, Washington, D.C.

Ratchet considered him. "You’d be asking me to violate not only the privacy of my comrades but a cultural and societal taboo. For instance, its not the Cybertronian way to speak for another. We believe that we can’t know and thus convey other people’s thoughts and ideas without asking and knowing them first. Thus, if you ask me to speak about another I won’t. It isn’t done. What I can do is I will answer what I can but not that which is forbidden."

"Your Prime, as you call him, he should have given you permission," Weaver countered. "It seems that you want to hide a number of things from us, things that are innocuous amongst human societies. We know each others religions and cultures without harm or foul. That's hardly something an ally should want to do from another ally."

"We believe that our actions have told a greater tale than any words I can give you. We've interdicted a great number of Decepticon actions and we've taken casualties. I'd think that the shared blood would tell you of our fidelity to your protection," Ratchet said quietly. “What I believe about either mundane or profound things shouldn’t compromise the effort and outcome of that.”

"That's all well and good but there are other things that are of interest to our people and on their behalf I’m asking," Weaver countered.

"Such as?" Ratchet asked.

"Where you stand on God or if you even have one. What kind of relationships do you have? Forgive my directness but I wouldn't be able to tell if you were a male or female by just looking at you," he said.

The atmosphere in the room shifted, the audience becoming uncomfortable at the pivot in questions and manners. Ratchet knew they were on his side and it was his to lose. He waited for further questions but the Senator was waiting for him. "I understand your interest and your confusion. You're not the first alien lifeforms to have encountered us. We've been searching far and wide for the Allspark and crossed many paths. We've learned to appreciate life in all its often strange and unthinkable forms.

“We understand that organic lifeforms are different, strange and for some of us difficult to relate to and accept. But we do because life is what it is, where it is. The fact that we’ve been space-going as a species since the beginning of our existence as a people helps that along as well. We have just about seen it all amongst us. Given the culture that is mine and its limitations, I can answer most of your questions but those that are taboo."

"Why?" Weaver persisted. “Surely, you can get an exemption for this important of a meeting.”

"I can’t because they're private, some of them. Others are taboo for discussion outside of our species because they're sacred. It makes me deeply uncomfortable to discuss the Allspark even though I know It's part of the problem here. That subject, that particular thing is taboo.

“The privacy of our people and all our individual people in the area of relationships is important. We felt it when we lived on our world even in the hardest of the oppression and now that we’re scattered to the winds we feel it even more. You ask a lot of us, we who have suffered greatly.

“Our people aren't here to give their consent and I'm not authorized to discuss them so I can't. Even as I know there are taboo areas for you, there are some for us. It's that simple."

"Then let's talk about your own relationship. You're here to give consent."

"My relationship?" Ratchet asked with surprise.

"Yes," Weaver said picking up a paper to make a pretense of reading from it. "It appears you have a relationship with someone called Ironhide."

A burst of angry emotion swept to Ratchet from Ironhide over his bond so he sent back cool soothing emotions in return.

Lennox who was sitting nearby rose to walk to Ironhide, opening the door to climb inside.

"'Hide, relax," Lennox said sensing the anger in the cab. "Ratchet is killing it here. Just hang on."

" ** Frag that ** , Lennox," he said, his voice even lower with his outrage. "They don't have  ** any business ** talking about us and  ** how did they find this out ** ? The mercs? Daniels?"

"I don't know but I'm going to find out," Lennox said, his own expression grim.

-0-Ops Center, Autobot HQ

"Fraggin' Daniels," Jazz said.

-0-Ops Center, N.E.S.T. HQ

"Daniels, that bastard," Fulton said.

-0-Walter E. Washington Convention Center Hearing

Ratchet stared at Weaver impassively but was in conversation with Prime at the same time.

After a moment, Weaver looked up, waiting impatiently. "Is that information correct?"

"I cannot comment on personal matters," Ratchet said quietly and levelly.

"Even your own? You can grant permission." Weaver looked at Ratchet with an expression of coldness as he relentlessly pressed his point.

"I'm not prepared to concede that I have a relationship to discuss. I'm bound by the laws of taboo to protect the personal from invasion of privacy."

"Then let me fill in what I know," Weaver said. He picked up a paper and began to read from it. "You are Ratchet, Chief Medical Officer of the Autobot garrison. You're a male. You're in a relationship with another male by the name of Ironhide." He nodded to an aide who pulled a large poster board from among several and put it up on an easel behind his boss. On the poster board was an image of Ratchet and Ironhide, albeit unclear and of low quality, indicative of a cell phone snapshot. "Is that you and the other Autobot I mentioned?"

It was an innocuous photo of Ironhide and Ratchet walking together outside the hangar. "I'll concede that’s me and Ironhide. But we're just walking together to N.E.S.T. Headquarters."

"There are rumors at Diego Garcia that you and Ironhide are in a relationship," Weaver persisted. "Is that true?"

Ratchet smiled in spite of the absurdity of the moment. Of all the many questions that this man could ask, questions that might clarify big questions about the universe or about aliens in general, Weaver wanted to know if he and Ironhide were 'facing. "I cannot answer that question without breaking personal and cultural taboos."

"Did an incident happen recently in which this Ironhide went off the reservation and destroyed with his bare hands a barracks, putting life and limb in danger?"

Ratchet looked at Morshower who decided to intervene. "There are mercenaries at Diego Garcia, much against my desire for them to be there who've been provoking the Autobots when drunk, which seems to be their preferred condition. They provoked an Autobot without reason who was ill and it necessitated an intervention. The barracks was harmed in the incident but the Autobots rebuilt it themselves. The mercenaries were found to be at fault by outside independent investigations."

"You find it okay for dangerous aliens to tear things up? What could a small human do to someone like him?" Weaver said pointing at Ratchet.

"Plenty," Morshower said. "The same mercenaries drove a heavily armored fully loaded security enhanced SUV into one of them when they were crossing the compound and in full right of way. The SUV hit them at 150 miles per hour and caused injury."

"The men inside died, two of them," Weaver countered.

"The men inside, all three of them were found to be three times the legal limit for intoxication. They deliberately aimed for the Autobot they hit. They were playing chicken but unfortunately for them they didn't tell the Autobot. The impact severely injured the Autobot and killed two of the mercs.

“They were at fault, not the Autobot who was offending no one at the time. And I would like to add, extensive investigations confirm what I just said. Intel-Martin hires scum and they act like it. It's only the patience of the Autobots that prevents the problems they create from escalating."

It was silent a moment as Weaver consulted papers. He looked up to consider Morshower. "You and I will have to disagree, General."

"No, Senator, you will have to overlook several independent investigations if you continue this line. That isn't disagreement. That is prejudice."

Weaver looked as if he were going to argue but he didn't. instead he nodded to his aide. The young woman stood, then pulled another poster board from a stack to place it on the easel.

Ratchet looked at it as a flash of red passed before his optics when he saw what it represented. It was a bunch of youngling soldiers relaxing on the beach. Three of them were the intention of the photo and they were Sunstreaker, Bluestreak and Sideswipe. They were lounging together with Bluestreak leaning against Sunstreaker while Sideswipe was resting his helm on Blue's lap. Ratchet waited, looking at Weaver like the scum he was.

"This picture was taken at Diego Garcia. I would like to know if you would comment upon it."

A short com call was had from Prime then he did. "That was a number of our youngling soldiers, our youngsters relaxing at the beach after a mission that involved shooting and injuries. They're sitting together enjoying a quiet moment."

"And the relationships? What about them?"

"They're friends of long standing relaxing together. What are you implying, Senator?" Ratchet asked as his optics narrowed.

"I would like to know where the females are. I would like to know if the relationships among you, especially these three individuals are same sex."

"Why?" Ratchet asked.

"Because it’s against our military regulations to allow openly gay individuals in ranks."

A groan permeated the hall. It permeated the White House, N.E.S.T. and Autobot Headquarters as well as allied areas. It permeated fifty million households in just America alone and it permeated Ironhide's helm.

Ratchet who was having saturation troubles of his own tamped down his emotional personality programming. "I'm not at liberty to discuss the personal relationships or lives of our soldiers. I would also like to point out that taking pictures of our soldiers and passing them out of Diego Garcia is a crime. You've received images taken in a crime, Senator. I would also point out that our soldiers are not in the ranks of your army. Therefore, the laws that you employ regarding fraternization do not apply to us. Why don't you get to the point."

"The point?" he asked. "My point is to get to the truth."

As Beau Weaver of the Great State of Texas made his point someone else did, too. Three huge explosions outside blew out the windows behind them as the concussion flashed across the common area outside.

  
  


Chapter 77

  
  


-0-Walter E. Washington Convention Center, Washington, D.C.

As Beau Weaver of the Great State of Texas made his point, someone else did, too. Three huge explosions outside blew out the windows behind them as the concussion flashed across the common area outside.

For a moment, it was silent enough that the actual tinkling sound of falling glass could clearly be heard inside the room. Then sound slammed back in as the shouts and screams outside were matched by those inside.

Ratchet rose up turning back to watch as Sideswipe, Hound and Ironhide who dumped Lennox rather hurriedly transformed into their alt robotic configurations, their weapons coming online as they did.

Morshower rising to glance around watched as the Autobots began to organize inside the center.

Ratchet shouted out that people needed to sit back down and settle. They stared at him and the behemoths that were trying to move to the big double doors, the shattered windows, then moved back as the people quieted down to let them pass.

Ironhide, all twenty-five feet of seething black menace moved toward the windows to peered out, his cannons online and his sensors spread wide.

Hound who was nearly as tall, armed to the teeth and moving to the other side of the blown out windows looked back as Sideswipe rolled up, his swords sheathing and unsheathing as he hesitated by the broken window to peer outside as well.

Ratchet turned to the committee to ascertain their safety, then to the people who stood in the room transfixed. He called out to the crowd gathered inside, some of them hysterical to calm themselves and sit down away from the windows. He told them that the Autobots would protect them and to let them pass if they came that way to leave the center aisle of the venue open.

For a moment they stood in place staring blankly, then they moved back to allow Ratchet to come closer and offer quieter words of comfort against their fears. By then, the three Autobots at the window were outside stealthing out to find who was responsible for the outrage.

-0-Ops Center, Autobot HQ

A continuous stream of information was being sent back to Prime who stood beside the communications desk, his expression one of frustration and concern. The blasts outside now being broadcast to Diego had blown out a number of windows in nearby buildings and the concussion had mowed down people who were standing in its path.

The blast holes were easy to detect and the carnage though significant was saved from catastrophic by the fact that the devices appeared to be planted in areas that were fenced off and unused. During the hearings, the area was fenced off. With the tall building itself taking a great deal of the blast, the windows were still in shards inside.

Crowds were farther away and even though they’d been impacted on the nearest fringes, it didn't appear to have reached them hard enough to cause deaths or dismemberment.

Ironhide moved across the parking lot toward the bombed sites. Hound was looking up for Seekers with his weapon pointed while Sideswipe rolled along behind them with his sensors sweeping in all directions. His swords sheathed and unsheathed as he watched the peripheral of the site.

The cratered holes were blackened and the concrete bore the impact becoming twisted, pitted, gouged and burned. They were planted close together to make the biggest blast possible and as Ironhide scanned the area and the craters, the others gave cover.

He found the detonators, sending the images in his infrared vision to Diego Garcia as he looked around. Kneeling, he found bits and pieces of the bomb, small and charred, while forming a grid in his processor. He placing the pieces on it in situ as a forensics investigator would later on with the rest. He combed the area looking for details of Decepticon activity, all the while in contact with Prime in Diego.

His chatter and the chatter of Hound, Sideswipe and Ratchet filtered through the comm system of Ops Center where everyone was listening as they looked at the scene Ironhide was investigating in his vision field. Then the sound of emergency vehicles could be heard and the line of vision changed to see them approach. Ironhide, Sideswipe and Hound's visuals broadcast over three big monitors at the Center showed humans arriving on scene.

Cops were running forward, people were pulling injured up and away and it was chaos outside. The Autobots watched as armed police and FBI ran toward them guns drawn. Then Morshower appeared, his aides with him. They intercepted the police before they reached the Autobots.

Lennox appeared then to talk quickly to law enforcement. He then ran toward the Autobots.

Ironhide's visual looked down capturing him as he began to speak. He told them that the people inside were safe and being evacuated. They heard Ironhide ask about Ratchet and he said Ratchet was coming outside to help with the wounded.

Then Ironhide's visual changed, moving toward the building to watch as Ratchet stepped out of the broken windows heading toward the people limping away or sitting on the ground dazed. He knelt, then picked up a man to hold him carefully. He moved forward collecting another. Ambulances had arrived as Ratchet knelt to lay the people down gently as stunned frightened rescue people snapped to from their shock of him and the moment to help.

When it was clear to Ironhide that they understood Ratchet was helping and he wasn't being harassed, Ironhide's visual returned to the bomb craters. He asked Lennox to move here and there peering into this and that, seeking to see if the Decepticons had a hand in the atrocity.

Beyond them, beyond the building and the barriers being maintained by Capital Police, District of Columbia law enforcement and the FBI, huge crowds were being directed away. The number of news people surged, arguing loudly for access but were not allowed to come any closer than they were as the police sought to maintain control and prevent contamination of the scene.

A hummer and an armored car along with the local S.W.A.T. van pulled up, then heavily armored humans jumped out as the doors opened.

Ironhide watched them and so did Ops Center as they came forward, slowing as they approached the aliens, some of them with guns drawn.

Lennox ran toward them to begin a heated discussion that led to them putting their weapons away. The bomb squad experts came forward gathering with Lennox beside Ironhide who bent down to come closer to them.

"The bombs were of Earth-type composition, William," Ironhide said to the humans collected around Lennox. "There's nothing about their design that's Decepticon but I know they had help. The bombs appear to have been placed here a few days ago. The venue was not common knowledge until yesterday so it was an inside job. The placement of the bombs would require expertise and finesse to prevent detection, something that Decepticons could provide."

"So Starscream directed this," Lennox asked as Morshower joined them.

"They want to discredit you and the Autobots," Morshower said.

Ironhide nodded. "I wouldn't disagree," he said as his optics glanced toward Ratchet who was working with relief people to bring aid to the damaged humans. "They sent a message to us," Ironhide said looking back to Morshower. "They want Weaver and the people of this world to push us out."

Morshower looked at him with a grim expression. "He can try, the fucker." Morshower looked at the destruction, then turned to the police. "The scene is yours."

With that, they stepped back Army and Autobot alike as the experts of the District of Columbia Heavy Weapons and Tactics team and the Bomb Squad took over. As they did, the entire disaster, the bombing, the disarray in its wake, the emergence of the Autobots into the world outside the venue, Ambassador Ratchet giving medical assistance, Hound, Sideswipe and Ironhide giving defensive protection was broadcast to the country and to the world.

America saw it.

Diego Garcia saw it.

Europe, Asia, Africa, South and North America saw it.

Nast saw it in Houston and smiled.

Starscream saw it much farther away and he smiled, too.

-0-Inside an hour later

The committee sat on chairs waiting for the all clear to leave. Weaver sat with a pale complexion and an unreadable expression. Hoxley sitting in front of him turned his way with a coffee cup in hand. "So, do you still want the Autobots to leave?"

Weaver glanced at her, frowning slightly at her question. "If they hadn't been here this wouldn't have happened."

"I disagree. If they hadn't been here it would've happened anyway and it would've been much worse. There would be no one on Earth that could stand up to them and the threat that they pose,” Hoxley replied tartly.

The sound of heavy treads interrupted them as Ratchet came back through the windows, walking to where the committee and their aides sat. Kneeling down to eye level he glanced at each. "Are you all right?" he asked scanning each of them as he asked.

"We're fine," Hoxley replied. "Are you and your comrades?"

"We are," Ratchet said. "We've assisted the bomb squad and emergency teams to aid the injured. There do not appear to be any injuries that threaten life."

The committee reflected relief then settled wearily in their chairs. "Mr. Ambassador, were the Decepticons involved?" a Senator from Oregon asked.

Ratchet nodded. "To our trained optics it would appear so. The devices were planted some time ago and concealed with great care. The blasts themselves appear to be designed to send a message without inflicting too much carnage."

"If you lot weren't here this wouldn't have happened," Weaver said sitting up straighter with a stubborn expression on his face.

"If you wish to comfort yourself by thinking so, Mr. Weaver, I won't disabuse you," Ratchet said. "On the other hand, you're not alone to face this threat and it's a very real and present danger."

"I'm glad," a Senator from Maine said, a neutral senator before today.

Ratchet nodded. "I am, too," he said quietly. "We’d like to know that you're well and ready to leave. We'll be going back to Diego Garcia but will be available should you require our presence at any hearings or proceedings that you deem necessary, especially related to us. Our experts are working on this event and its evidence as well."

"Thank you, Mr. Ambassador," Hoxley said. "I’ll keep in touch through my Washington office."

Ratchet nodded, then rose to stare down at them. He stepped back from them for more space. Then he transformed and where a tall gangling robotic entity once stood smiling with a kindly face and deeply blue optics, a huge hummer search and rescue vehicle now appeared. It blinked its lights, backed slightly, then rolled forward and out the double doors of the venue to disappear into the rapidly falling nighttime of Washington, D. C.

They stared after it wordlessly.

-0-On the ground in Diego Garcia

Will Lennox commed off his cell phone after talking to his parents, the pair of them brimming with questions and keen interest in his assignment. He couldn't speak to them before today. Now it was a relief to hear them and talk about what he actually did. His wife had called earlier on the ride back and he had comforted her and his daughter, reminding them that he was coming home for Christmas.

Epps and Graham met him with a hummer and they drove back to the barracks to talk and play poker until the wee hours of the morning.

Hound met by Trailbreaker walked together along with Ratchet, Ironhide and Sideswipe. Waiting inside the door, greeting Sideswipe with enthusiasm was Bluestreak.

Sunstreaker stood back with an enraged expression on his face. He pulled Sideswipe and Bluestreak to one side, looking around as he did. "Those fraggers got a picture of us. Someone on this base is a slagging traitor."

"I know," Sideswipe said, his own expression expressing his outrage.

"We have to figure it out," Sunny said as he walked with Blue and Sideswipe toward Ops Center. "We have to find out fragging soon." They entered Ops Center for the debrief with Prime and the senior Autobot Command Team.

Outside, walking toward his preferred tie down, Silverbolt walked gracefully and majestically. Enormously even. He crossed the compound quietly, climbed the fence and joined the other Aerialbots once more. Night fell on Diego Garcia as everyone settled, cognizant that they’d dodged a bullet even as it became very clear they had a traitor in their midst.

  
  


Chapter 78

  
  


-0-At Autobot HQ, that night

Ironhide sat nearby waiting for Ratchet who was debriefing with Prime and Prowl, going over the hearing together. He was pondering the information that Weaver had displayed and the comments that he’d made about himself, Ratchet and the youngsters. It burned in his tanks and he wanted to find Weaver to shake him until he spilled the name of the source that was here, giving away secrets and half truths to the cowardly little fragger from Texas.

Ratchet rose to walk toward him as behind him Prowl and Prime leaned together to discuss some more things. When Ratchet reached Ironhide, he held out his servo to pull the bigger Autobot to his peds. "Let's go," Ratchet said with a grin. "My peds are killing me."

"I'll rub them," Ironhide said walking with Ratchet toward their quarters, his servo invariably resting on Ratchet's back. They paused along the way, talking to this and that Autobot. By the time they reached their quarters they were ready to be alone. Entering, they wandered about getting ready for recharge and when they lay down together they’d lost a lot of the tension that battles always bestowed upon them. It was quiet as Ironhide took Ratchet's servo to squeeze it. "You were good."

"Thanks," Ratchet said. "Sorry I couldn't tell them what a sexual volcano you are but I had to observe the proprieties."

Ironhide smiled. "Too bad for them."

"Yep," Ratchet said with a grin.

"We have a mole besides our mole, unless that one is feeding images out of here, too," Ironhide said.

"Prime feels its the mercs. They've been doing this for a while. He and Red have caught them sending to Weaver and Nast," Ratchet said.

"Oh," Ironhide said. "I can imagine the younglings are going to be wanting to know who it is. They were laid out in public like sacrifices."

"They were, sacrificed, that is. The Weavers and Nasts of this world don't care who they harm as long as they get what they want."

"Then we make sure they don't get it," Ironhide said, his voice filled with steely resolve.

Ratchet turned over to snuggle against him. "I agree."

"How's the sparkling?" Ironhide asked.

"Spritely," Ratchet said. "The blast startled him."

"Is that bad?" Ironhide asked with alarm in his voice.

"No," Ratchet said. "He's just noticing the world outside of my spark chamber."

Ironhide raised up as Ratchet rolled over onto his back. Ratchet looked up at Ironhide in the dark with night vision. "Show me," he said softly.

Ratchet released the catch and the door slid back, the metal folding back to reveal the spark and sparkling inside.

Ironhide with awe reached in and touched both, the sensation of being one mind with Ratchet filling him for a moment. The sparkling's energy tingled against his fingers, a sense of delight suffusing Ironhide from the small life. He looked at it with wonder, then touched the catch, the doors closing to a seamless seal. He looked at Ratchet then leaned down to kiss him softly. "Thank you."

Ratchet savored the soft kiss. "You're welcome."

Then Ironhide shifted to pull Ratchet into his arms, holding him as he considered the sparkling that would be his in only four decaorns. He could hardly wait, he thought, as he slowly drifted into recharge.

-0-Senior Autobot Daily Staff Meeting, the next morning

They gathered and debriefed, going over the evidence that pointed to Decepticon involvement. Red Alert attended to lay out the paper trail he'd gathered from three days before the bomb went off until just before the meeting. Nast was a part of the incident, emails between him and High Flyer proof.

"He wants something that High Flyer can arrange," Red Alert said. "He wants Arcee and he wants Springer. He thinks that High Flyer has contacts with the Decepticons. He has no idea who he's dealing with, the fragger."

"Amazing," Prowl remarked as the door opened and Jazz came in, his expression grim.

"Check this out," Jazz said, turning on the monitor in the corner. A press conference was going on and Weaver was decrying the presence of Autobots on the Earth, using the bombing as evidence of the folly of allowing it.

"This is the usual thing he does," Prime said, glancing at Jazz. "I expected it."

"Hold on," Jazz said. "Wait until you see who's with him."

The camera lingered on Weaver for a moment then he paused his spiel a moment to look to the right of himself. Theodore Galloway was standing there with a grim expression on his face. "I'd like to introduce National Security Administration member Theodore Galloway. He has an announcement that he'd like to make. Theodore," Weaver said moving aside as they shook hands.

Galloway moved to the microphone. Cameras went off like crazy, then died down. Galloway spoke. "This morning, I tendered my resignation to the President saying I could no longer support the policy of accommodation with the Autobots after the incident at the Walter E. Washington Convention Center. I don't believe its sound, safe or effective.

“As of today, I'm no longer a member of the administration. I do intend to announce my candidacy for the Senate, seeking a seat from the state of Virginia. I feel so strongly about this that I'm preparing to fight the continued alliance of our country and the Autobots in the Senate. I believe it's time to revisit the treaties and other accommodations we've made with them."

At this point, the media began to ask questions and his answers were a rehash of his usual 'objections' so Jazz muted the screen.

They looked at Prime who was leaning on his elbow, his helm resting on his servo. He looked at the screen for a bit, then looked at his team. "You know, I  ** really  ** do not like that man," he said as the room erupted in laughter.

Jazz smiled. "What do you want us to do, Optimus?" he asked.

"Trace his money. It will be interesting to find out who will finance his campaign. Keep the tracers on his communications and start building a map of his life, his associates, the works. Just like Nast and Daniels. It all leads back to Starscream," Prime said grim faced and angry.

"And the best part, Prime, is that neither of them know that," Ratchet said.

"When Starscream seeks what he wants, they'll know," Jazz said grimly.

"And we better be waiting," Prime replied quietly.

-0-Med Bay, later

Bluestreak walked in looking this way and that to spy Ratchet in his office. Walking to the door, he rapped on the doorjamb.

Ratchet startled, then looked up. "Blue. What ya want?"

"I wanted to talk to you about things, personal things, Ratchet," Blue said hovering in the doorway.

Ratchet divining Blue’s reasons grinned. "Come in and close the door."

Bluestreak did.

-0-The twins

They rolled to the firing range, taking their time passing the merc's barracks. Those slaggers weren't out so they hung around to scan the barracks and the area around it as they wasted time waiting for them to show themselves. They didn't.

"Fraggers can't be counted on to show their faces," Sunstreaker said as he rolled back past the barracks.  ** "Fraggers!" ** he shouted.  H is optics never left the building as they passed  by . 

Sideswipe who was glaring as well continued toward the hangar with his brother as he seethed over the invasion of their privacy by Weaver and the treachery of the mercs. He didn't know which he hated worse.

The mercs standing inside watching through a window relaxed slightly as they left. The two nightmares of their existence had passed by and it was clear that they were looking for them.

Todd turned to Lawrence and punched him hard.

Lawrence glared at Todd. "What was  ** that  ** for?"

"For aggravating them. They're homicidal as it is and you're aggravating them. They're going to kill someone and I don't want it to be me."

"Those fuckers are under orders to leave us alone," Lawrence said as he looked out once more. "Their boss told them to."

"Have you obeyed every order you ever got?" Todd replied as he reached for a beer in the cooler.

"Doesn't matter," Lawrence said. "I'll get what I want, then no one can tell me what to do ever again."

Todd stared at him a moment, remembering the big black Autobot who came for them. There wasn't anything that they did that could save them from his ire. Now they were taunting the two most dangerous Autobots in the garrison. He considered for the first time asking to be relieved and sent elsewhere.

-0-Med Bay

"How do you know?"

Ratchet considered Blue's question. "I guess you think about it and if it fits you, you do it."

"But Ironhide ..."

"He’d never be a carrier. I’ve always known that."

"Your prank war..."

"It was half for the fun of it, half to make sure that Ironhide was good with sparking and getting him to commit to a sparkling. I knew it would be me. Ironhide is a wonder of the universe, a mech's mech. I don't mind being the one."

"But Sunny and Sideswipe ... they automatically assume it'll be me."

Ratchet nodded. "Then you need to work that part out before you bond. That's what a pre-bond is for, Bluestreak. To work out the stuff that matters because once you do it you can't undo it."

"I know," Bluestreak said as he considered his options. "I think it might be a good idea for you to tell me how to prevent sparking. Until we figure this out or I get used to the idea of maybe being a carrier, I don't want to spark."

"The twins … how do they feel about sparklings?" Ratchet asked as he began to gather the hardware and software to prevent sparking in a carrier.

"They haven't said." Bluestreak's expression hardened. "I think it's time I found out."

Ratchet smiled. "Good," he said simply.

-0-Outside the Rec Room

Bluestreak stood in the sun absorbing rays as he absorbed a new software program that operated the small shunt fitted into his critical energy port that disallowed excess energy to surge and form a sparking. It was innocuous but secured in place and would prevent Bluestreak from becoming a carrier unless it was removed by a medic like Ratchet.

The twins rolling up brightened at the sight of Bluestreak, then leaned in for a kiss and hug. They got it but they also noticed agitation. "What's up, Blue?" Sideswipe asked.

Blue looked up at them, the two both twenty-five feet of warrior, fearless and fearsome. He at a ‘mere’ twenty feet found himself dwarfed around the two of them, once again having to marshal his focus as his basic good nature often led him to table what he wanted to do or say in favor of getting along. "I want to talk to both of you about something."

"Sure," Sunstreaker said glancing at Sideswipe.

The y followed Bluestreak toward the beach. They stepped over the fence, walking to the place they always sat and when they did Bluestreak turned to them, swallowing his urge to run. "I want to know why you think ** I ** should be the carrier if we spark."

Sideswipe and Sunstreaker glanced at each other as communications flew over their link.

Bluestreak watched them knowing that was happening and frowned. "Well?"

"Because I can't," Sideswipe said with a shrug. "Can you, Sunny?"

"No," Sunstreaker said with a frown. "I can't. I never thought I ever could and I can't. Why, Blue?"

"The other night you just assumed  ** I  ** would do it. ** I  ** would be the carrier."

"Well, we can't. We're front liners, Bluestreak. We have to fight and we don't take a back seat when we have to go to battle. How can we do that when one of us is sparked?"

"What about me? I'm a warrior, too," Bluestreak replied.

"We never said you weren't," Sideswipe said raising a servo almost in self defense. "I just think if you want a sparkling you can't count on us being the carrier."

Blue  star ed at both  then asked the big question: "'If * ** I* ** want a sparkling'? What about you? Do we have sparklings or not?"

It was silent a moment.

"I think so," Sideswipe said glancing at his brother.

Sunny shrugged. "I never gave it any thought because I never felt we'd ever have a chance to be genitors. I don't know what I think."

Bluestreak rose from the rock he was sitting on then walked to the shore for a moment before coming back. "Well, you better figure out what you want because in about four decaorns we're getting bonded. I don't want to do that if you don't have an answer for me."

"What answer do you want, Blue?" Sunstreaker asked.

"An honest one, Sunny," Bluestreak said as he began to walk away.

They sat on their rocks watching him go silently.

  
  


Chapter 79

  
  


-0-On the way to Autobot City, Mars

Ratchet sat in the hold of Cosmos as he winged toward Mars at the usual astonishing clip. Beside him, relaxing against the bulkhead was Hoist and Ironhide. They were on their way to run a complete diagnostic on the Med Bay in The Fortress and Ironhide insisted in coming along to 'carry slag' and the like.

Ratchet who was filled with amusement at the offer agreed, so they went to the city where their sparkling was going to be born in less than three decaorns. The previous decaorn had been hectic...

-0-Ops Center

"They want a statement about the incident in Washington, D. C., Ratchet," Prowl said, pausing by Med Bay. "They will take it over a secure link and you can give your statement at the comm station in Ops Center."

Ratchet walked to Ops Center after putting away a number of datapads that had reports about inventory and half of the physical service results of half the Autobots in the garrison. He entered then walked to the monitor to spend about an hour discussing what had happened, what he had seen, how he had reacted and helped, what the possibilities for a cause were and who the perpetrators might be in his professional estimation. It went on and on. By the time he was finished, it was Ironhide's turn so he sat nearby, put up his peds and listened in.

Interrogator: (INT) "Sir, what did you see when you stepped toward the window and walked outside the venue?"

Ironhide: (IH) "I saw people scattered all over. There were windows blown out on two buildings besides our own and there was chaos."

(INT): "What did you do yourself in that situation?"

(IH): "We, my junior officers and I began to scan for threats, determining that there were bombs placed that had exploded. We couldn't assume that there weren't more. Our sensors didn't pick these up. The exploded munitions had been dampened in some fashion to hide their presence and locations. That’s Decepticon tactics. I doubt that humans have that capacity."

(INT): "And then? Did you go over the site and the evidence?" the Federal prosecutor asked, glancing at the communicator that sat on the table in front of her, a phone-type device. She didn't see Ironhide. The interviews were held without video. Only audio was reaching the lawyers and investigators.

"I did," Ironhide said. "I scanned the area, locating on a data grid all of the pieces and parts of the bombs, the locations of blast items such as concrete and steel as well as the location of the blast victims that were reached by the explosion."

(INT): "You didn't disturb the evidence or the scene did you?"

(IH): ** "Frag no! ** What do you think I am? A sparkling?"

Ratchet grinned. It was going to be a long interview.

-0-Later that morning

"Ratchet, can I talk to you?"

Ratchet looked up to spy Sideswipe standing in the doorway uneasily glancing over his shoulder as he did. "Sure."

He rolled in and passed Ratchet, entering his office to wait and watch the big medic.

Ratchet put down his travel pack for the trip to Autobot City then walked into his office as Sideswipe closed the door. "What's up?" Ratchet asked.

Sideswipe shifted uneasily, his embarrassment suppressing him for a moment. "I was … I wanted to know how you keep from sparking?"

"Ah," Ratchet asked with a smirk. "What brought this all about besides your bonding with Bluestreak one of these  ** vorns ** ."

Sideswipe rolled back and forth a moment, then sat in a chair.

Ratchet who noted his expression sat as well to wait.

"We had this thing with Blue. Sparklings came up because of you, I guess and the next thing I know Blue is mad."

"Why?" Ratchet asked, knowing the answer already.

"He thinks we think he's somehow  ** supposed ** to be a carrier."

"Is he?" Ratchet asked.

Sideswipe was silent a moment. "I only know I'm not cut out for it."

"Why?"

Sideswipe frowned. "Because I'm a warrior."

"Bluestreak is a warrior."

"Bluestreak is younger … uh, he's sort of smaller and more sensitive … I'm really pissing you off aren't I," he asked, noting the lack of expression on Ratchet's face and the way he crossed his arms in front of his chest.

"Slightly, but continue," Ratchet said.

"I don't know how to say this right ... correctly," Sideswipe said leaning forward a little, "but I don't think I can be a carrier. I want sparklings. I always wanted a family at some point but I never felt it would ever come to that, that we could find enough peace to have things like that."

Ratchet nodded. "What about Sunstreaker?"

"He's not even going to consider it. He's just … Sunny," Sideswipe said. "Blue is mad and wants an answer. I know Blue wants sparklings, maybe more than one. And with a trine, all that sort of thing is magnified."

"Have you ever considered not being a part of this, of seeking someone else to bond with?" Ratchet asked.

"No," Sideswipe said. "When we'd be with other mechs or femmes, we never had this happen. Just with Blue. And now, Blue's pretty hot about this."

"I can see that," Ratchet said. "You're making him the weak one, the femme one, the lesser one. Or so it sounds to me."

"We don't mean it," Sideswipe said. "Blue is shorter and smaller. He's a tough fighter and shoots better than us long range. But he's just ... sweet and … I don't know. I just know he's mad and I want to make sure that I don't cause a sparking. We haven't figured that out yet and I don't want to complicate things by being unprepared against this."

Ratchet nodded. "I can make sure you don't spark but this issue and how you view each other, you better square it out. Prowl won't take to his son getting disrespected and you need to work out the idea of family or no family before you bond. It's hard enough figuring out how to balance what you want with one partner but you're going to be three in this bond."

Sideswipe nodded. "I just need to know I won't spark."

"Come with me," Ratchet said. "I can do that," he said, pausing at the door. "The rest you have to do yourself and the sooner the better. And tell your brother to get in here to get this done, too."

Sideswipe nodded so together they walked to the private surgery in the back to make it so.

-0-Autobot City, Mars

They landed in the airfield. Ironhide and Ratchet stepped out, laying their gear on the ground. Ironhide transformed first so they loaded everything in his truck bed. Transforming themselves, they drove together down the winding dirt road that led to The Fortress.

Driving under the arch, entering the main compound, Hoist and Ratchet formed back to their robotic configurations and unloaded Ironhide so he could as well.

Greeting the mechs and Arcee who were garrisoned here, they walked to Med Bay and began to spread out. Ironhide walked to the Ops Center with Springer while Arcee settled in to chat as Ratchet and Hoist began to shake down the Med Bay.

-0-Three joors later, Ops Center, Autobot City, Mars

The message came in garbled and static-filled. When they received it at the Center, Ironhide commed Ops Center at Diego Garcia.

"Prowl here."

"Prowl," Ironhide said. "We have a situation," he began.

-0-Diego Garcia, Earth

They walked to the jets, loading as fast as they could. They didn't bother to tell the N.E.S.T. HQ what they were doing beyond a 'training exercise'. Optimus Prime walked out with Jazz and First Aid, boarding Silverbolt then lifting away into the sky with Cosmos and Sky Dive.

Will Lennox stood in the doorway of his barracks, coffee cup in hand as he watched them go. He wondered where they were going since Prime was with them and made a note to ask. Maybe there was training potential in their exercises for the soldiers, too. Turning with a yawn, he walked inside out of the sun.

-0-Autobot City, Mars

The ships set down, then Silverbolt and Sky Dive discharged their passengers after a flight through space made at the top speed they could manage. Reaching the planet, they transformed after off loading then waited with their sensors aimed at the skies above them.

It was midday on Mars, the sun bright overhead as it rolled onward toward evening. On the ground waiting together, Ratchet and Hoist, Ironhide, Prime, Jazz, First Aid and Springer looked up as well. Behind them primed for their first emergency, the garrison was on edge. Then the word came.

:Autobot City Ops Center to Prime:

:Prime:

:Sir, they're on our radar. They're coming in together:

:Very well. We are ready:

Prime stepped forward, his optics focused well beyond the upper range of normal human vision, watching as tiny speaks began to appear. Some of them, many of them flashed into the thin atmosphere of the planet, burning very little as they thundered in to hit the ground at enormous speeds. They hit one after another, burying themselves as they did. When they struck the ground, teams moved quickly, hurrying to the craters to help the occupants up and out.

Beyond them slowly descending were three ships of Cybertronian design making their way to the beacon marked landing strip and the directions of Silverbolt as they made their way to the ground. Slowly they came to settle down, rolling to a stop as they did.

Prime who was moving toward them was joined by others as they came to the ships whose doors were lowering slowly.

Inside, huddled on the floor were numerous mechs and a couple of femmes, all of them worn, ill-appearing, famished, weary and frightened. Prime moved forward, stepping up the ramps to walk inside  to kneel down beside a mech who was lying under a ragged blanket shivering uncontrollably. He looked toward the door  to call out.  ** "Ratchet!" **

The medics hurried inside, Ratchet to Prime while Hoist and First Aid went to the other vessel. Ratchet looked at the mech, then the others, swearing to himself softly. "We better get them to Med Bay, Prime. We have to examine them and take the worst cases first."

Prime nodded as he hurried outside to give orders to organize the relief. He personally transformed so they could load refugees into his trailer as others followed example. Springer who was formatted into a Top Kick pick up truck took a load of younglings and two relatively young sparklings who were clinging to shocked ill looking femmes. Driving toward the garrison, he radioed to Diego Garcia that they had an emergency and would need support.

Prowl who was taking the call sent the second wave into readiness as they gathered in the Rec Room waiting for the ships to return. Before they did, Silverbolt walked to the three vessels that had brought the refugees, smiling with delight at their presence amongst their company once more.

Transforming with difficulty, Fireflight, Air Raid and Slingshot returned the welcome with all their exhausted delight.

  
  


Chapter 80

  
  


-0-Tide

Ratchet hurried into Med Bay, watching as the worst case individuals were gently carried inside. Setting a bot down that looked like he had been moth eaten by metallic cannibals, the rescue team hurried out for more. Ratchet watched them go, then hurried toward the patient and began to work. Behind him lying on med beds, the floor and leaning against the walls, a number more were brought.

Springer came in and out, helping shocked and injured mechs to come in and sit. He helped fetch trays of famine formulated energon to give to the patients under Hoist's direction. It made him sick to his stomach to see Cybertronians in such condition but he couldn't remember a time when he felt such happiness at the sight of their people coming home. He rose to walk back out in a hurry.

-0-Ops Center, Autobot City, Mars

Energon cubes were stacked near to them as they looked at the Autobots, their optics seeking permission.

Prime moved closer, kneeling down before them. "You are safe. You are with the Autobots and we will protect you. You may energize until you feel well. That is why we put it on the table. It is for you and you do not have to ask permission."

A youngling mech with red and white paint faded and chipped from who knew what experience and deprivation looked at him with a look of such disbelief that Prime reached over to cup his face with his giant servo. "It is all right. You are home."

A tear fell from his optics, sliding down his cheek as Prime rubbed it away. "Energize and then we will have a medic look at you and your friends here." He looked at two smaller younger mechs.

"They're my brothers," the mech whispered.

The two stared at Prime with unblinking optics, ones that spoke of unrelenting fear, endless hunger and Primus knew what else.

Prime felt his spark crush. He rose, then handed energon to the younglings who took it hesitantly. Sipping it wearily, they stared at the cups with astonishment, then drank it down as if they hadn't had energy in a long, long time.

It was obvious to everyone watching that that was the case.

Ironhide and Jazz who were watching them eat shifted in their peds in discomfort over the children’s suffering.

Prime watched them stoically, thanking Primus for the humans, Mars and the resilient goodness of his people.

-0-Outside

Prime and Ironhide stepped outside, watching as the Autobots worked with precision and skill to sort the new arrivals and organize their care and protection.

Jazz walked over after talking to Springer. Springer was now head of security for Autobot City, all of Mars and worked with his teams to coordinate the reclamation.

"Prime, we have fifty individuals. There's forty-six mechs, four femmes. Four of them are as old as us, forty-six are not. There are nine younglings, eight mechs and one femme. Those younglings are orphaned. Three femmes each have a sparkling of varyin' ages. They're here with their bonds, one of whom is in very bad condition in the Med Bay. Ratchet gives that mech a 50/50 chance which means we may have another orphan pretty soon," Jazz said, his expression and tone grim. "There are thirty-one younglings in this group and all of them are mechs."

Prime nodded. "We have to have quarters for them. They will need to be divided by age and grouped in the barracks. I need you to find out their organization and try to keep those together that belong together, families if we have them. If some of them have been leading the group and they are still able and mentally stable, let them help you."

Jazz nodded, then hurried back to Springer.

Ironhide returned with Prime to Ops Center, the senior Autobots there gathering around the three youngling mechs who sat in chairs by the main control desk guzzling energon as if they were starving, which they had been.

Prime watched them with a look of sorrow and wretchedness on his face.

Ironhide, a silent copy of Prime stood by his side.

One of the mechs slowed, looking up at Prime. His expression was one of awe. "You live? You're Optimus Prime."

Prime pulled up a chair to sit, smiling kindly as he did. "I do. And I am so happy to learn that you do as well."

"We tried," the youngling said glancing at his brothers who sat in their chairs, sated and sleepy.

"What is your designation?" Prime asked.

"I'm Rambler," he said, sitting up straighter. "This is my brother, T-Bar and my younger brother, Spirit. We never thought we would ever see you. You almost didn't seem real, like a story the older mechs and femmes would tell us to keep us going."

Prime smiled sadly. "We have been trying to organize a place for our people and now that you are here this is home." As he spoke, the littlest mech, Spirit rose and walked to stand in front of Prime. He looked at him, then raised his arms upward to be held. Prime gathered him, holding him tightly.

T-Bar sat listlessly in his chair holding a half empty energon cube as he looked at Prime with an exhausted expression.

Rambler whose burdens lifted just a little leaned down and held his own helm in his hands, shaking with relief and despair.

Ironhide looked at the floor for a moment then walked around the table to the younglings. He knelt down between them, pulling them against his chassis to hold them as the sounds of their wailing filled the quiet room.

-0-A little bit later

Prime walked into Med Bay searching among the patients for a mech named Copper. Ratchet who was sipping energon during a tiny interlude pointed him out. He lay on a med berth hooked up and in dire straits. Walking to the young mech, noting his condition, the weight of his femme bond and sparkling heavy on Prime's processor, he gathered himself, then rolled back his chest plating until the pure white light of the Matrix began to emerge.

Ratchet who was watching along with everyone else in the room saw Prime trip the spark chamber latch on the mech. When his light streamed out pale and feeble, Prime with infinite care gathered the mech into his arms as the Matrix energy began to mingle with that of the desperately ill mech he held.

The white light brightened, filling the mech's chamber as tendrils of energy slipped up and around the body of the silent figure, drawing out and sharpening his energy. It was evident to those watching but for others like the humans it would be conjecture if they could themselves. For a moment the light continued to be bright, then Prime lay the unconscious mech back down, closing his chamber with a gentle touch. His own closed by itself as he looked at the monitors.

Ratchet joined him.

It was silent a moment as Ratchet checked the numbers, then a bit of a load lifted from him. "He looks much better. Thank you," Ratchet said quietly. "He could make it now."

"He has to," Prime said. "His femme and sparkling need him to.  ** I ** need him, to o .  We all do. "

Ratchet watched Prime walk back out from a room filled with a silent awe. Then he went back to work.

-0-Autobot HQ, Diego Garcia, Earth

Silverbolt, Cosmos and Sky Dive landed and the surge of Autobot soldiers carrying supplies and other things thronged out, entering to lift off with the jets.

Lennox and Graham who were standing by a hangar nearby looked at each other. Then as one they began to trek toward the Autobot Ops Center and a clue.

-0-Autobot City, Mars

They shifted mechs and femmes, sparklings and adults, helping them to get the first wash some of them probably had in vorns. The refugees were strangely quiet, Springer noted as he held a sparkling in his arms. Its femme carrier washed nearby with shaky servos and movements. He could see signs of abuse on their chassis and limbs as the grime and dirt washed off. Their paint schemes were in sad disrepair as well.

The sparkling who clinging to him tightly stared at him with unwavering optics. Fear cloaked him like a second skin.

Springer who felt his spark squeezing hugged the sparkling, finding its silence disturbing. He’d heard from Ratchet that sparklings made sounds, chirps and whirs that everyone found delightful. He’d heard that they could even purr when content. But this sparkling like the other two nearby in the arms of his soldiers were silent. It was grievously wrong, he considered, swaying gently from ped to ped as he comforted the tiny shocked infant in his arm.

-0-On the way

Sunstreaker, Sideswipe, Mirage, Hound and Trailbreaker sat together silently, each of them considering what the refugees would mean to their lives and world. From the sounds of things, they were in bad shape which meant someone had abused them and they’d somehow managed to escape with the help of the Aerialbots.

What they were going toward, they couldn't know but it would be the first time that refugee Cybertronians found safety with Autobots in the length of time that they’d been part of the Cybertronian Diaspora themselves and that made this moment unique for them. As they streaked through space toward their new home and increased population, they wondered how many more Cybertronians were lost and desperate in the galaxy around them. Every one of them was disturbed by the thought.

-0-At the airfield

They pumped energon into the Aerialbots directly, bypassing the niceties of energon cubes. They were deeply debilitated and exhausted having crossed space with their holds filled with their fellows, making their way toward the spot where Prime's voice issued.

Sanctuary.

Safety.

The clarion call reached through space and it was being answered.

Silverbolt and Sky Dive had been ecstatic to see them and had been reluctant to leave to go to Earth but they did, hurtling through the darkness toward the blue marble that had made it all possible. Now they were coming back with soldiers and specialists in their holds and soon they would be five, soon they would be whole again. They would defend their new home, their family and countrymen and even if it required them to form Superion, they would do it.

Cosmos who was happy as well buzzed along with his hold full of supplies and extra energon. The plant on Mars was starting to make bulk quantities and that was good he thought as he soared with exuberance alongside his colleagues as they closed the gap to the red planet and home.

  
  


Chapter 81

  
  


-0-Autobot HQ, Earth

Prowl walked back to Ops Center when he heard the voices of Graham and Lennox calling to him. Comming Prime for guidance and getting it, he waited. They walked inside and stopped before him looking up at his impassive face, his bright red Chevron slightly less so for some reason. "Captain Lennox and Lieutenant Graham."

"Prowl," Lennox began, glancing back as the jets and Cosmos lifted off, "What's up?"

"Up?" Prowl asked,

half feigning confusion.

"Where’s everyone going?" Lennox asked as he clarified his comments to a sometimes very literal being.

"They're on an exercise," Prowl responded.

"What kind? I'm asking because we might be able to combine our teams if its possible. It might benefit both of us, perhaps," Graham asked, noting a certain unease in the posture of the normally preternaturally calm figure of the S.I.C.

"We're doing drills around the solar system," Prowl lied. He considered it wasn't necessarily a lie. They  ** were ** going out to enhance existing sensors and place more on the planets and asteroids of the solar system. "We want to enhance the sensors of the early warning system and place more as well as run sweeps from Mercury to the Oort Field."

Lennox grinned. "I know you're doing that but I'll tell you, Prowl, it never gets old to hear you say it."

Prowl smiled a slight smile. But he added nothing more.

"Will Optimus be back today or is this a multi-day experience?" Lennox asked, studying the expression on Prowl's face. Practice made Prowl more accessible to him. He’d some with the taciturn Autobot and found chinks in the normally unreadable figure's facial composition.

"Optimus will be gone for two solar days," Prowl said. "I'm sorry that we didn't list this on the duty schedule. It rather came about in discussion but if he's needed he will come back. If you send your inquiries to the Ops Center, we'll dispatch an Aerialbot or Cosmos to bring him back."

"That'll be fine. We don't at the moment have anything today but the weekly N.E.S.T.-Autobot Staff Meeting is tomorrow morning."

Prowl thought a moment, then shook his head as his optics shuttered slightly. "I'm sorry," he said. "I forgot. I believe that unless you have a vital need that we postpone that meeting until Wednesday morning." He considered his schedule. "I see nothing preventing it being held then."

"Of course," Lennox said, his eyes widening at the slip on Prowl's part. Prowl forgot things like he, Lennox could fly. It wasn't possible and he could see with a flick of his eyes that Graham was caught surprised as well. "That'll be fine. I guess we better go."

Prowl nodded, hesitated slightly, then stepped back and away to head toward Ops Center. He disappeared around the corner.

The two soldiers watched silently then looked at each other with surprise. Then they began to walk back to their own office in the N.E.S.T. Barracks across the way.

-0-Autobot City airfield and Space Port, Mars

Springer watched them unload, directing the new arrivals from Earth to tasks and toward newly made temporary roads to The Fortress beyond. As Sideswipe and Sunstreaker walked toward him, he pulled them aside and began to tell them what he wanted them to do.

-0-Prime

He walked out of Ops Center then looked downward. Standing before him, three little mechs were looking up at Prime with unblinking optics. Rambler who held a servo of each of his two brothers looked at Prime quietly.

Prime smiled, noting the battered paint schemes of all three younglings. "You have washed."

Rambler nodded. "Yes," he said quietly. "They let us wash and we came here now."

Prime glanced around for a supervising adult. There wasn't one. "You need to recharge. Let me show you where you can." He stepped out, then waited for them to follow. Rambler tried, tugging his younger brothers to come along. They tried to follow but Spirit stumbled from weariness. Prime scooped him up, the little mech's arms going around him again.

He looked at T-Bar who was standing beside his brother, his helm bent and resting on his little servos. Prime bent down and scooped him up as well. The little mech cuddled against Prime’s chest, his servo resting on the Matrix chamber. "Can you walk, Rambler?"

"I think so," he said, leaning against Prime in utter fatigue.

Prime shifted T-Bar, then bent down to scoop up Rambler who lay his helm on Prime's shoulder. Prime walked toward Med Bay as the little younglings fell into a light recharge by the time he arrived. It was quieter, the worst was over and when Ratchet saw Prime, he dropped a tool he was holding to walk over to take Rambler into his arms. He hugged the youngling, then walked into the back room.

Prime followed.

They put the youngsters down on a pile of blankets stacked in the back. Covering them with another one, they turned to go.

"Sir?"

They turned back to look at Rambler who’d pulled his little brothers to his chassis. The younger mechs were undisturbed in their recharge.

"Rambler?" Prime replied softly.

"What happens to us now?" he asked painfully. His expression was deeply fearful.

Prime thought a moment, then he walked over to sit down and lean against the wall. "I will stay here until you fall into recharge. Then you will recharge completely safely because Ratchet," he said, pointing to the big mech in the doorway, "Ratchet will look after you."

"And when we wake up again, will you still be here?" he asked as a tear slipped from his optics.

"I will," Prime said softly as he wiped Rambler's tear away. "Recharge now. You are in the middle of the Autobot Army."

"No one can hurt us there, right?" Rambler asked as lay back wearily. His optics never left Prime. "You're our Prime."

"I am," Optimus said quietly. He pulled blankets up and tucked them around the younglings then glanced at Ratchet who was leaning on the doorjamb watching them. Prime shook his head as an expression of utter despair crossed his face for a second.

Ratchet walked up then squatted down. "I can watch them when they're in recharge."

"You need to rest, too. Three decaorns and you will be a patient in your own Med Bay," Prime said quietly.

"I know. But I'll stay here. When they're in recharge, let me know and you can go and do what you have to do."

Prime nodded as his fingers stroked Rambler's helm. "How is Copper?"

"He's off the critical list," Ratchet said. "He'll make it but it'll be a long recovery."

Prime nodded, smiling at last. "But he  ** will  ** make it."

Ratchet smiled back. "He will."

-0-In a room off the Med Bay

They carried in heavy boxes and went back for more equipment, setting it up on the tables that were there. Throwing tarp-like mats on the floor, Sunstreaker and Sideswipe nodded to Springer who had helped them set up. Turning with a grin on his handsome face, he left them to fetch something and someone. As they waited, the twins pulled bottles and tubes out of the boxes.

When Springer returned, he had five youngling mechs and the sole orphaned femme in tow. He had them sit on the chairs by the door. Taking the femme's hand, he walked with her to Sunstreaker who looked down at her with an unreadable expression on his face. Springer knelt next to the little femme, placing his arm around her. "Silverbow, this is Sunstreaker. He's going to help you."

She looked up at him, then moved back into Springer's arm fearfully. Springer looked up with a frown. "Retract your blades, Sunstreaker."

Sunstreaker jolted. He looked at Sideswipe then both retracted their blades. Sunny pulled up a chair and sat, bringing himself closer to the tiny femme. Reaching out, he held out his servo, his expression softening into something not often present on his helm, gentle kindness and empathy.

She reached out hesitantly, glancing at Springer.

Springer nodded as she walked closer, looking up at Sunstreaker with frightened optics.

Sunstreaker swallowed hard then lifted her into his lap to run his fingers over the scrapes and scratches on her thin little arm. "This won't take much to fix," he said squeezing her shoulders gently. He set her back on her peds once more. "Stand right here and let me see what we can do about this. When I get done you're going to be the prettiest little femme on the whole slaggin' world."

With that, he picked up a sander, set it at the softest grit possible and began the delicate task of replacing the little femme's green and pink paint scheme.

Springer watched then nodded to Sideswipe. He reached out to bring a solemn faced little mech to him to repair and repaint.

Sideswipe smiled at the child and began.

-0-Five joors later

Prime walked out of the temporary barracks for bachelor adult mechs and slowed to look down. Standing in front of him were three little mechs. He smiled and knelt. "I thought you were in Med Bay."

"We were. But then a big yellow mech came and got us. He did this for us, he and a red one." Rambler turned slowly, self-consciously happy with the glowing red and white paint scheme that now covered him.

His brothers were looking at Prime with shy smiles, Spirit's servo rubbing the paint job on his chassis with his digits as if in awe that it was so pretty and all his.

All three mechs were white and red. All of them positively glowed they were so shiny. Then Rambler dropped T-Bar's servo, raising his shoulder as he turn slightly so Prime could see. On his shoulder and on the shoulder of the two other mechs was the cat-like face of the Autobot insignia. It was tiny, just their size, reddish and glowing. "See what he did for us? Sunstreaker made us Autobots, too."

Prime smiled then gathered them into an embrace. "He did," he said softly. "He sure did."

-0-N.E.S.T. Barracks, Officer's Office complex

Graham and Lennox filled Epps in as all of them sat together waiting for dinner and an evening of cards with civilians and sailors who were part of their ‘mixed’ crew. It was hot, the schedule had been fulfilled so they kicked back in the air conditioned office.

"I've never seen Prowl like that," Lennox said. "He looked sick and upset."

"How can you tell?" Epps asked.

"You can if you look enough times. He was uncertain and oddly tense. He actually couldn't contain it," Graham said.

Lennox nodded. It was silent a moment, then Lennox shook his head. "I have a few questions for the meeting Wednesday."

"I do, too," Graham replied quietly.

-0-On the way to Ops Center

Prime slowed, noting a line of mechs and three femmes bearing sparklings sitting and standing outside of a room near the command center. He walked to the door, nodding and smiling at the individuals waiting who looked at him with something akin to worshipful awe. He walked inside, watching as Sideswipe painstakingly detailed a mech that was covered in patches and welds, new armor and plating added to places that hadn’t seen the proper attention in a long, long time, if ever.

Sunstreaker was working on an older mech, one who was appreciative and whose optics never left Sunny's servos, watching every movement and application as if savoring it.

The twins glanced up smiling at him with a shake of their heads. "Springer."

Prime grinned with pleasure and gratitude. "Good." He walked closer to look at the older mech's paint job. "This looks good."

"It's the first time in vorns and vorns that anything was done to my paint scheme, sir. I'm so grateful. It feels so good to be clean. It feels good to have my dignity back," he said, swallowing hard as his optics watered.

Optimus took his servo and squeezed it. "It is our great honor."

The older mech looked at him with emotion. "Thank you."

Prime nodded. "You do not need to thank us. You are with the Autobots now and you are home."

The older mech swallowed his emotion. "It's been a long hard journey."

"When you are able, I want to hear it. Are there others out there?" Prime asked.

The mech nodded. "More than you can imagine," he said with a whisper.

Prime squeezed the older mech's servo. "Let the mechs here take care of you."

The old mech smiled, then glanced at Sunstreaker. "I'd like an Autobot designation on my arm, too. If you wouldn't mind," he asked falling back into uncertainty.

Sunstreaker looked up at him, staring at the little elder for a moment before smiling slightly. "Slaggin' right."

Prime grinned, too.

  
  


Chapter 82

  
  


-0-Prowl

He stood in the hangar doorway, the moon overhead a sliver of bright light hanging in the sky. He’d been there several times finding nothing of import about it beyond a routing array of sensors, communications relays and a mineral they needed to make a flexible metal that was useful in creating medical replacement parts in Aerialbot's comm and sensor systems.

The moon had nothing for him. The tiny blinking red light nearby it did, greatly. Mars had his spark, his world, his partner and bond. Optimus was there and he wished to be the same even as he loathed going. All the suffering that symbolized their entire life was gathering there, chaff blown in the winds of war falling into their hands and safety at last.

He looked back into the building at the sound of footfalls, noticing Bluestreak walking toward him.

Stepping up behind him, Blue slipped his arms around Prowl, then lay his head on Prowl's shoulder.

Prowl's folded his wings to lie flat on his back for his Blue's embrace. Prowl squeezed Bluestreak's servo, swaying gently as they stood together.

"You're upset," Bluestreak said.

"I will be fine," Prowl lied.

"You can tell me," Bluestreak said.

"I could tell you many things," Prowl said. "I could tell you that you're my greatest treasure, that I'm proud of you and that I love you dearly."

"You just did," Bluestreak said with a chuckle.

"I did, didn't I," Prowl said with a slight grin.

"Our people are coming to us, to Optimus," Bluestreak said quietly.

"They are," Prowl said as he pulled Bluestreak's arms tighter around his waist.

"That bothers you?" Bluestreak asked quietly.

"Not that," Prowl said looking up at the sky, at the red star beyond the moon winking at him as it twinkled.

"The idea of it," Bluestreak said. "The idea of it?"

Prowl mused upon it for a moment, then nodded slightly. "Yes, maybe ... I think so," Prowl said quietly.

As they stood together, a camera snapped pictures and video rolled. It continued when Bluestreak stepped around his genitor and hugged him around the neck, the two holding each other for a while. It continued as Bluestreak said goodnight then walked to his quarters to recharge. And it continued until Prowl walked back inside himself.

-0-Ops Center, Autobot City, Mars

The older mech and several others told the same story. They’d been neutrals living in a colony on a planet on the flight path from Cybertron to Junk. They’d worked hard not only to establish themselves but to not take sides, preferring to keep the war and its destruction away.

When they were noticed they agreed to make munitions for the Decepticons in exchange for being unmolested otherwise. It worked for a time but Megatron could not maintain even the most trivial alliances without causing destruction and disaster to eventually undo them. They were enslaved, overworked, undernourished and abused. They were given greater and greater quotas to fill that became impossible. As the productivity fell, the abuse rose.

During an especially grueling orn, their guards had over energized and fallen into a stuperous recharge. The four oldest surviving mechs, these mechs telling the tale had gathered the fifty remaining members of the colony and slipped away on a stolen shuttle. It was a desperate measure and they barely stayed ahead of the Decepticons, sharing out their meager rations as they flew constantly. They were nearly at the end when a chance encounter with three Aerialbots, all on their way to a call issued by the Prime saved them from capture.

They flew onward, barely energized enough to continue, the Aerialbots taking turns carrying the greater number of mechs and femmes as the rest flew alongside to fight and scan. It was a miracle that they made it. It was a miracle that they survived. The Aerialbots were on their last legs when they arrived, facilitating a number of the more able and physically well mechs to step outside of the ships and make the final part of the journey in their transitional forms.

The senior Autobots listened, gleaning from the survivors as much information as they could and when they were finished telling the tale they were led back to their new temporary homes to rest.

"Jazz, I want the sensors monitored day and night with the idea that there are Decepticon interceptors following. I want more sensors in the Oort Field and I want the Aerialbots and Cosmos to make regular recon flights around the solar system with an emphasis on the solar well beyond. I do not want anyone coming up our tail pipes by surprise."

Jazz nodded as he glanced at Wheeljack and Perceptor. "That deep space sensor array that you want to mount in the clouds of Venus and Jupiter, we need to talk."

Both mechs nodded.

"I want a survey of the refugees' skills and training. I want it put into the skills database. We are going to be building housing sooner rather than later and I want to know if we have skills in this group that can be utilized. Also, our new arrivals when they recover will need to work at something and we could use extra hands building the city," Prime said.

Jazz nodded as he glanced at Mirage. "We can interview them as soon as you sign off, Ratchet."

Ratchet nodded.

"What is their physical status, Ratchet?" Prime asked.

"Well, very poor at the moment. All of the adults bear the scars of beatings and I think some of them were used for sport, either in shooting contests or gladiatorial events. Even the younglings and one of the sparklings show signs of systematic abuse."

The room was silent a moment.

Ironhide shifted with surprised rage as a soft growl issued unbidden from him. He turned around to look at Prime. "How do you abuse sparklings?" he asked, as coolant misted in his optics. "Younglings … sparklings … how do you hurt them?"

No one answered.

Ratchet took Ironhide's servo into his own, squeezing it gently.

Ironhide looked at Prime. "What are we going to do with the orphans? We have eight orphan mechs and one femme. They need guardians who will act as their genitors. What will we do, Prime?"

Prime considered that as the three little mechs passed through his processor. "We have them here and we will take care of them. I want to know more about them and if they have anyone before we allow them to be adopted or taken under guardianship."

Ironhide nodded. "We have a duty to them to see that they grow up better. I don't know what they must feel like after the life they've had but the sparklings … they don't make a sound."

No one spoke. It was silent on the command deck.

-0-Prowl

He waited for the link to connect, then Optimus's face was on the screen. He smiled at the sight, relaxing once more. "Hello."

"Hello," Optimus said, relaxing himself at the sight of Prowl.

"How is it? Are you all right?" Prowl asked with tension infusing his words.

"No one is going to the Matrix. Ratchet is a miracle worker."

Prowl nearly sagged with relief.

"What's wrong, Prowl? I have felt something sorrowful from you since the refugees showed up."

Prowl looked down and shook his head. "It's nothing, really."

Prime looked at Prowl with a frown. "You know better than that."

Prowl looked up. "What about the younglings, Optimus? What are we going to do with the little ones?"

Prime looked at Prowl. "Come here to Mars. I need you here."

Prowl looked around at the quiet command deck, half of the positions automatically manned. "I have to stay here. Who will run the Center?"

"Switch functions to here," Prime said soothingly. "I want you here. I'm sending Cosmos. Be ready."

Prowl opened his mouth to say something, then nodded. "All right," he said softly. "I'll be waiting."

Prime nodded, too, his expression soft with love for Prowl. "I'll be waiting for you here."

-0-On the tarmac

He stood by a jet, a real jet, leaning against its hard contoured side. A light in the sky signaled the arrival shortly of Cosmos. Prime had noticed what he had kept hidden and now he wanted Prowl to come. He wondered if he could talk about it, this long hidden torment. He never talked about it unless he was pressed to the wall and he was sure that Prime would be relentless.

The form of Cosmos began to materialize and when he set down with his side door opening, Prowl walked forward to climb aboard. Without a sound, Cosmos rose up and with a swiftness nothing else on Earth could produce was gone from the sight of man in nanokliks.

-0-Arrival

Prowl stepped off Cosmos, the big shuttle moving to park in the midst of the Aerialbots, five now huddled together talking on internal comm lines. As he walked forward, he saw Prime's outline in the darkness. Prowl walked into his arms as Prime reciprocated, holding Prowl in a tight embrace.

-0-Ironhide and Ratchet

They lay together on a cot in the back of the Med Bay, one designed for overnight stays by medical personnel. Ratchet lay in Ironhide's arms, tracing a circular pattern in the armor of the big brooding mech. "You should say what you feel, Ironhide. It makes it easier."

"I was thinking of our sparkling and how I'd feel if someone hurt it."

It was silent a moment.

Ratchet nodded silently.

"I'm going to find out the name of the mech who hurt that sparkling and then I'm going to kill him if we ever cross paths. I will do it with my bare hands."

Ratchet nodded again, the haunted eyes of the sparkling, a tiny undernourished infant named Rain passing through his processor before he repressed the memory with effort. "I'll help you, Ironhide," Ratchet said softly.

-0-Nearby

They drove to a nearby bluff, transforming to sit on a rocky outcropping. Prowl leaned against Prime, watching one of the two moons of Mars begin its traverse across the darkening sky.

"Will you tell me about it?" Prime asked as he slipped his arm around Prowl to pull him closer.

"It's hard," Prowl said "Its hard to think about it."

"I know but it will help you."

Prowl was silent a moment, then haltingly he began to tell Prime about Praxus, about the effort to find someone, anyone alive. Then he told him the tale of his son, the only known survivor of the Seeker annihilation, Bluestreak.

  
  


Chapter 83

  
  


-0-Autobot City, on a rock outcropping a few miles away, Mars

They sat together while the memories of a thousand war-torn wastelands rose before them as they reflected silently. Prowl leaned into Optimus whose arm was around him holding him closely. "I'm sorry."

Optimus looked down, the handsome face of his soulmate clouded with emotions. "Why? Because sometimes it piles up and you cannot cope?"

"You bear such a heavy burden. I'm suppose to lift that, not add to it."

Optimus kissed Prowl's helm. "You do that just by walking into a room."

Prowl straightened up to look at Optimus. "You’re the total sum of my happiness. You do know that is no small admission from me, old stick up his aft, Prowl. Without you, there’s nothing in my spark or this life to keep me here. It’s all different with you. Not even Blue could keep me here."

Optimus nodded. "Then you understand me, too."

Prowl stared at him a moment. "This was one battlefield too many at this moment. Babies and children, older mechs and femmes, to see them hurt ... sometimes ... I just can't ..." He was silent a moment. "I’ll be fine."

"I know," Optimus said, leaning in for a soft kiss. His lips lingered, then he sat back. He looked at Prowl with an expression that filled him with emotions. "Do not be afraid to tell me when the darkness comes. I am here for you. Always."

Prowl nodded. "And I am for you," he said softly.

Optimus pulled Prowl close. "We should get back," he whispered.

"We should." Prowl smiled. "Later."

Optimus chuckled, then glanced down. "Well said."

-0-Diego Garcia, Lieutenant Niall Graham

They went through the day on base, the lack of activity at the Autobot HQ an unusual sight for soldiers and airmen going here and there. Graham who was walking toward the main administration building looked at the hangar doors, the empty Rec Room just beyond and felt a lonesome feeling falling over him. There were bots inside but few. Almost all of them were gone on their 'training exercise' and it was 'empty' around here.

/... so this is what it'll feel like if Galloway gets elected and has his way … I miss them and they aren't even gone .../

He continued onward, the silence of the area disturbing to him as he entered the building to disappear.

-0-Ops Center, Autobot City, Mars

Prowl leaned over Teletraan III, the computer nexus on Mars that was the mirror image of the one at Diego Garcia. It was actually the same super computer, an annex of the one on Earth but the designation kept the two separated and confusion to a minimum. Beyond the command deck, the base was working hard to help, comfort and absorb the fifty refugees.

Prowl felt an energy, then looked down. Standing in the middle of the command deck were three little mechs, two smaller ones on each side of a taller one, their servos gripped tightly in his own. They were white and red, shiny in a new penny sort of way and looking around like they were lost. For a moment, he could see Bluestreak, little and distraught, battered, broken and covered in his mother's energon.

For a moment, it wasn't the command deck of Autobot City Operational Center. It was the debris and body strewn hell of Praxus with its toxic smells, its still exploding ordinance, blazing fires and one small little mech standing on rubble and body parts screaming and screaming. He swallowed hard then knelt to look them in the optics. "Hello."

They looked at him with their little blue optics and a nervous skittish look that Prowl remembered so well. "We were looking for our Prime," the oldest one said shyly with a touch of fear in his voice. "He knows us."

Prowl swallowed again as he touched Rambler's cheek. "Then we will find him," he said. He picked up Spirit who curled his little body against Prowl. He stroked T-Bar's face and caressed Rambler. "Come with me. Let's find our Prime." Taking T-Bar's servo, grinning to Rambler to follow, the four walked slowly out the door to find Optimus.

-0-Ironhide

He walked around the plant inspecting the machinery and the process. Energon was being made in bulk quantities and they were able to cut their need for petroleum products off, supplying energy to their garrison including the Aerialbots directly from here. Most of it was underground, built to be defended against Decepticon attack should they feel they could do so here.

Three of the mechs from the refugee group were energy experts who were anxious to work here, to do something in return for the 'right to stay'. He shook his head. It would take a while for them to understand they were welcome here. They owed nothing and didn't have to prove they were worthy or useful. That they were here, their first reclamation project of their countrymen was enough payment.

He walked down the long underground tunnel that connected the energon plant to the huge central room out of which all the tunnels to the city were connected like a big wheel with many spokes running out of a central hub. The garrison was the hub and everything else was a spoke radiating out to areas on the plateau. It had taken day and night shifts working and toiling with incredible dedication to get this far and all of it was designed to withstand attack, based on what they’d learned the hard way elsewhere.

The smelter also ran full time, making the materials that they needed to build, shore up and expand as they began to make the planned city come to life. There would be buildings above ground but not yet. The garrison was the most noticeable and was incredibly fortified against air and land attack. It would be fall back zone one for all inhabitants and from there, the Autobots would defend all.

Walking to the Hub, pausing a moment to talk to a number of bots, Ironhide climbed the stairs, ignoring the lift which was filled with supplies for the temporary barracks being built in the corridor leading to the smelter. Some of the mechs working were refugees who were already pitching in.

Ironhide felt happy to see them rising up again. They would all rise up, he considered. High enough to kick Starscream's aft. With that, he disappeared from view into the busy mech filled halls of The Fortress.

-0-Ratchet

He began to clear out the last few refugees, giving them instructions on after care as well as hugging the sparklings as the femmes gathered their bonds. When they found out he was sparked, it actually prompted a response from two of the most beaten down femmes, the two crowding around Ratchet to ask him how he was doing, offering pointers and feeling for a moment like they were normal and their life hadn't been slag for what seemed like eons. When they finally walked out, little families reunited once more, Ratchet stood in the doorway ruminating. Then he commed Arcee to come to the Med Bay.

-0-Prime

He was in the armory checking out the inventory of combustibles when Prowl and the youngling mechs arrived. They’d climbed down the stairs, eschewing the crowded elevators and wend their way along the lighted corridors to the place where Prowl's sensors had located Optimus.

Entering the huge space, Rambler dropped Prowl's servo to run toward Prime, stopping shyly in front of him. Looking down with a smile, Prime knelt to pull the little mech into his arms to hug him gently. Rambler clung to him, holding him tightly. When Prime arose, the little mech gripped him tightly with his legs.

Prime smiled as he reached out to caress the cheeks and sweet faces of T-Bar and Spirit. "I see you found my entourage."

Prowl nodded as he shifted from ped to ped, swaying for Spirit as the little mech clung to him tightly. T-Bar moved to Optimus, wrapping his arms around the Prime's leg, holding him as tightly as he could. "We appear to be in the throes of a love fest."

Prime grinned. "I was one of the first mechs they saw."

"I can see that. Did you see the little Autobot designation on their arms?" Prowl asked.

"Springer had Sunstreaker and Sideswipe repaint the refugees. Sunstreaker put those on all the children, then the adults and younglings asked for them."

"They're very cute," Prowl said, rubbing Spirit's little arm. "Do you know who they belong to?" Prowl stared at Prime as a wave of emotion passed between them over the bond.

"We are sorting that out now," Prime said, reaching down to pick T-Bar up off the floor. "We have to make sure that the families stay intact." The children lay against him comforted by his presence as Prowl grinned at him, getting a sheepish grin in return. "I think I could use a break. How about going to the lounge to get some energon," Prime asked.

Rambler looked up at him, patting his chassis with his little servo. "Can we come, too?" he asked as the fear in his voice reverberated in their helms.

Prowl and Prime flinched, then gathered themselves. "Of course you can."

They walked to the main floor and the lounge beyond Ops Center.

-0-Bluestreak

He sat at Teletraan II and watched the updates come through on the refugees, breaking down into several distinct groups. They totaled fifty. Of those fifty, four were older mechs, nine were younglings ... eight mechs and one femme. There were also three sparklings, all of them mech. Their mothers along with the youngling femme totaled four in all. The remaining count left thirty-three adult mechs, some of them in dire condition when they’d arrived.

Sunstreaker and Sideswipe were nearby assisting and providing security in case of Decepticon interception of the refugees by their pursuers. There was nothing on the radar or sensor nets yet but he knew from experience that it could all change in a spark beat.

The majority of the mechs would be returning to Diego in the early morning hours, coming back from their 'training exercise' to resume their duties there. Sideswipe was coming back but Sunstreaker had been assigned to Autobot City indefinitely.

It sucked.

Blue watched the grids, sending and receiving signals until the end of his shift in the late afternoon. After that, he sat outside and watched the moon. Beyond it, the red twinkling light of Mars held the entirety of his life in its sandy dusty shores.

-0-Hound

He sat on the floor holding out color sticks for the tiny femme, Silverbow. She hadn’t spoken a word since they’d come here but she was clean, shined and sparkling. Her light green and pink paint scheme was replaced thanks to Sunstreaker who also put her little red Autobot insignia charmingly on her left and right shoulders. She drew pictures, taking the color sticks from Hound as her muse moved her.

He’d carried her to the various appointments that were designed to ascertain her condition and when he put her down at the Med Bay for her second round of tests, she’d held his servo and refused to let go even for Ratchet. She had stared at him silently, her tiny blue optics never wavering and only Hound holding her allowed Ratchet to do what he needed. She’d been found to be healthy and well despite being beaten and starved.

Hound looked at her, this tiny little femme and felt a deep burning outrage. How anyone could harm the young and the old, he didn't know. He just knew that wherever he went in The Fortress, the little femme jogged along behind, never speaking, never allowing him out of her sight.

Trailbreaker walked in then knelt. He smiled at the little femme who paused in her coloring to look from Hound to Trailbreaker and back to Hound again.

Then she smiled back.

-0-In a corridor, on the way to the smelter where the refugees were being billeted

She’d left Med Bay with a new mission handed to her by Ratchet. They had talked and talked, deciding that a liaison was needed for the tiniest minority in the city. She agreed wholeheartedly, then marched out to seek them.

She found them huddled together in a little group, their bonds sitting on berths, exhausted and silent with relief at their changed circumstances. They held silent sparklings who looked at her as she came to them. She smiled then reached out to hug the nearest femme. Holding her, her arms wrapped around both her and her sparkling, she whispered softly to the group. "I'm Arcee. I'm here to help you."

  
  


Chapter 84

  
  


-0-Autobot City, Mars

They began to gather at the entrance to The Fortress, their gear bags and boxes stowed on Silverbolt, Cosmos and Sky Dive. The other Aerialbots were staying due to their physical debilitation. The three who were fit would ferry most of the Autobots back to Diego Garcia and return here when they were finished. In a few days, the Aerialbots and Cosmos would shift off to Diego and take up their station there.

Hound with a sleepy Silverbow in his arms stood outside Ops Center waiting with Trailbreaker for Prime to walk out. He was bent over a schematic of the next phase of Autobot City, so they waited nervously. Silverbow who was laying against Hound's shoulder stroked his armored neck with her servo, absently seeking and receiving warmth and comfort by the action. Swaying gently as he held the little femme, Hound waited anxiously for Prime. Finally, Trailbreaker squeezed his arm then walked onto the Command Deck. "Optimus?" he asked.

Optimus turned to him, giving Trailbreaker his attention.

"Optimus, I think we have a problem," Trailbreaker said.

-0-A few minutes later

They sat in a conference room off Ops Center, four little mechs, a tiny femme and their anxious companions. Trailbreaker stood by the door shifting from ped to ped as Hound sat on a chair with Silverbow leaning against him on his lap. The little white and red mechs stood beside the table. Spirit sat on Prowl's lap, T-Bar leaned against him as they sat on the couch while Rambler stood as close to Prime as he dared, his anxious face telling his story as he wrung his servos together in fear.

They had gathered in the room, the children and the mechs who had been their helpers during processing over a situation that had arose and demanded delicate handling. Ratchet and Ironhide who were sitting on the other side of the table looked from one to the other, already convinced as to what to do for the little children.

"When we took her to the children's quarters, she got hysterical when we said we had to leave her," Hound said softly. The femme, hearing his words burrowed into his chassis looking over her shoulder with fearful optics at everyone in the room. He hugged her, kissing her helm. "She's bonded to us. What are we going to do?"

Prowl looked at Prime with a helpless shrug. "What are we supposed to do with this? These little mechs and the femme don't have anyone."

"We do not know that yet, Prowl," Prime began as he gently squeezed Rambler's servo.

"I asked the survivors," Prowl said. "These children have no surviving family, all nine of them. They didn't make it out of the ordeal. These are legitimate orphans."

Prime was silent a moment, then glanced at Ratchet. "What is your opinion on this, Ratchet?"

Ratchet considered the anxious silent infants. "They're bonding out of pain and fear, seeking solace and comfort from you, the first individuals that have given them both. I think depriving them of the mechs that have given them a sense of safety would be very detrimental to their recovery. Right now, they don't feel safe without you in their optical range. They cling to you and feel desperate when you aren't there.

“I think that we have a special circumstance here and we have to do the right thing. We have to take them with us and you need to, all of you, step up. The infants need support and they've chosen you."

Prime leaned back as he glanced at Prowl with a quizzical expression. "These are three traumatized children."

"Nothing I haven't seen before," Prowl said.. "It's up to you."

Prime grinned slightly. "Thanks."

Prowl grinned back.

Slightly.

"You're welcome," he said.

Prime looked at the little femme falling into recharge in Hound's arms. He looked at the three little mechs that watched him closely, their anxiety an almost physical cloud around them. Then he nodded. "I agree."

Rambler looked from one to the other, then walked to Prime, putting his little servos on Prime's arm. "What's going to happen to us?" he asked, his face and voice betraying his fear. "I have to save my brothers."

"You are coming with us," Prime said, squeezing the little mech's servo.

"My brothers, too?" he asked, glancing at the two silent mechs leaning against Prowl.

Prime nodded. "You will all be coming with us."

Rambler put his head down on Prime's arm, his shoulders sagging with relief.

Prime pulled him into his arms and held him,. He looked at Prowl. "This is going to be hard. You know that."

"Who else better to know that," Prowl answered with a slight smile.

"Who indeed," Prime replied, rising to head for the door. He carried Rambler in his arms as the others followed.

-0-On the way to Diego Garcia

Silverbow who was sitting on Hound's lap holding Trailbreaker's thumb in her servo watched the other mechs with unblinking optics. They sat around the hold of Cosmos. Sideswipe and others were flying back through the vacuum toward the garrison that was now home.

In the hold of Silverbolt, lying on duffel bags as they recharged, three little mechs slept the sleep of the completely exhausted. Optimus Prime sat next to them, his arm around Prowl's shoulders as they talked about what they had to do with the children.

Ironhide who was sitting with Ratchet watched them, amused out of his peds that they’d beaten him in the sparkling arms (and legs) race. Three for them to his one. That Prime, he was one virile mech he thought with a snort.

Ratchet who was looking at a datapad filled with data for the report he had to write glanced at Ironhide. "What?" he asked.

Ironhide glancing back at Ratchet shook his helm. "Nothing."

-0-At the base in Diego Garcia

They walked off the shuttles carrying gear and four kids, heading for the hangar beyond. Prowl who toted a satchel full of work datapads also carried Spirit who was deeply recharging. They walked together as he held the servo of T-Bar. He was considering what they’d do about putting the mechs to bed in their tiny quarters in the Embassy.

Behind him carrying a groggy Rambler, Prime was in discussion with Ironhide about the upcoming day's agenda that included the weekly Senior Autobot-N.E.S.T. staff meeting in a few hours. The soldiers would be present and probably a few extras, civilians with a project and other non Autobot individuals. The problem was keeping the children low key. He, himself would provide the cover story on their presence.

He would lie.

They walked into the hangar heading toward their berths and catch up with those who had stayed. Beyond the hangar, across the tarmac hidden in the shadows of Cosmos's empty hangar a camera with long range lenses snapped away.

-0-Later that day

Prowl sat at his station in the Ops Center preparing the agenda for the meeting. When he arose he looked down. Three little red and white mechs were standing there looking up. Prowl smiled.

So did they.

Hound and Trailbreaker were standing outside of the wash racks as a tiny green and pink femme in Hound's arms waited for the three mechs inside to finish. They walked out, pausing to exclaim over the femme who sat shyly with a slight smile on her face.

Sideswipe who followed them stopped to chat as he sheathed his swords fully. He grinned, tapping her nose structure with his digit.

She smiled leaning shyly back into Hound.

"My brother, Sunstreaker, did your paint. Aren't you the cutest femme on planet Earth,” Sideswipe said.

Hound grinned. "She's the only one right now," he said, leaning in to peek. "Everyone out?"

Sideswipe nodded as he moved aside for them to enter. He stood at the door watching as Hound and Trailbreaker carefully explained everything. Then they set a barrel on its end, placing her on her peds on top of it. Regulating a spray, they began to wash her, soaping her up, then gently spraying it all away.

By the time they were done and she was wrapped in a towel, Sideswipe had decided that  ** little ** youngling femmes were alright, too. He walked  onward  to the hangar to prepare for his duty shift.

-0-The Senior Autobot-N.E.S.T weekly staff meeting

They drove inside the hangar to park by the door of the conference room. Wheeljack and Perceptor were there with plans of some kind. Long range deep space sensor something or other they’d heard as they moved the ladder and began to climb upwards. Crossing the table to sit on their chairs, they kicked back to listen to the conversation. That is, the conversation that was in English.

Prime and Prowl entered to walk to their places, greeting everyone there as they did. Ironhide and Ratchet entered as others arrived who had a place at the table for the meeting. Then the door opened once more as another human walked in.

Coming around the table, stilling conversation as he did, Jase Daniels walked to the ladder and began to climb upward, crossing the table's expanse to halt beside the soldiers. Epps, Lennox and Graham looked at him without rising from their chairs.

"What are you doing here, Daniels?" Lennox asked none too politely.

"I'm here for the meeting. I've been given permission to attend these weekly meetings." He looked at Prime. "I appreciate you telling your guards to let me come in. I would’ve hated to call General Morshower."

Prime who was looking at him with an expression somewhere between indifference and disgust shrugged. "You're late."

"My apologies," he said as he looked around for a seat on the table top.

Ironhide who was looking at him as if he were a cockroach in his salad slapped an empty cartridge box on the table. "Here, Daniels. Sit on this."

Daniels stared at the box with a faint smell of munitions emanating off of it glanced at Ironhide. "Can I assume that this is an empty box?"

Ironhide shrugged, smiling a humorless smile. "You can. But you know what they say … assuming makes an aft out of you and me."

Ratchet smiled. "Finally, an Earth saying I can get behind."

-0-In a room nearby

Bluestreak sat on the floor with a little femme sitting on his lap and an art stick in her servo. Bluestreak was holding a piece of cardboard and the little femme was drawing on it. Nearby, playing with a set of wooden blocks of all shapes, the three mechs were building a copy of The Fortress of Autobot City. Helping them, Bumblebee and Hound lay on the floor as the chatter of children and the peaceful atmosphere in the room drew others in.

Some sat around reading their datapad novels, absorbing the good vibe while others quietly discussed the building techniques being used by clever little mechs. Still others discussed the use of color in portraits by talented femmes.

For the first time in the lifetime of most of them, they could sit and interact with children of their own species. They could see, talk and touch them. As they did, they found something else happening. They found themselves loving them.

  
  


Chapter 85

  
  


-0-Senior Autobot-N.E.S.T. weekly meeting, Diego Garcia

"What are you doing here, Daniels?" Lennox asked none too politely.

"I'm here for the meeting. I've been given permission to attend these weekly meetings." He looked at Prime. "I appreciate you telling your guards to let me come in. I would've hated to call General Morshower."

Prime who looked at him with an expression somewhere between indifference and disgust shrugged. "You are late."

"My apologies," he said as he looked around for a seat on the table top

The exchange between Prime and Daniels was short and sharp as the human settled. He looked at Prime with his usual unreadable blank expression. The others in the room stirred but finally settled to begin. There was tension rising in a meeting that was usually free of such.

They began then, discussing the progress of the contracts that they had made with green companies to produce batteries and other energy efficient items that would pay their expenses and leave them less open to criticism from right winged agenda driven people.

Like Daniels, Ratchet thought as he stared at the human like he was a specimen.

Daniels for his part listened closely as Lennox and the soldiers discussed personnel, training schedules and faint glitches on the intel regarding the bad guys. It was clear that Lennox was being extremely careful with what he was disclosing due to Daniels' proximity and Prime made a mental note to talk to the soldiers later in the day.

The rest of the agenda went well, Autobots leaving and arriving depending on the discussion items. By the time they were nearing the end, Prime opened the floor to discussion as usual and Daniels began.

"I don't know if you saw the news this morning," he said glancing at Prime and Prowl. "There appears to be evidence that there are children on this base, Autobot children."

The temperature in the room, never warm since he came through the door dropped to frigid. Everyone turned their optics to Prime, soldiers included. Prime stared coldly at Daniels as he considered his response. He found himself loathing with an intensity he usually didn't reserve for anyone but senior Decepticons the human sitting on the table staring at him impassively. "I have not heard today's news," Prime said equally impassively.

"There are photos of Autobots including you," he said, nodding toward Prowl, "walking off of jets carrying very small child-like Autobots."

"Prowl."

He glanced at the S.I.C. who was looking at Daniels coldly. "My designation is Prowl."

Daniels nodded. "Whatever. My question still stands."

A shift among those present didn't phase Daniels and Prime wondered if anything really did. He leaned forward. "And why do you ask?"

"Our treaty agreements allow for your garrison but children are not included."

"Our treaties call for sanctuary for any Autobot that hears the call I made for them to come," Prime said quietly, He leaned forward slightly. "Since that does not hold caveats about which Autobots come, that would include any children or infants that can get here."

"Then there are children," Daniels persisted, pausing from his writing to look up at Prime.

Prime leaned back, considering how much to disclose. "Two days ago we received a distress signal from three of our Aerialbots who were coming to Earth guided by my call. They were carrying refugees that they had found fleeing Decepticon pursuit and requested assistance. We rendered it."

"And the refugees? And the three Aerialbots? Where are they? I would like to see them," Daniels said, making more notes.

"Nothing in our agreements requires us to allow you to see anyone who comes to us," Prime said. "The language allows us leeway to handle our personnel situations independent of your scrutiny. As for the Aerialbots, they will be coming here shortly."

"I think its well within the rights of the United States government to be able to verify the presence of more Autobots on Diego Garcia. The cost of allowing-"

Prime who leaned forward cut Daniels off. "Our treaties and agreements are very explicit in our autonomy and the right to privacy. We are allowed to repatriate our people without undue scrutiny. We are also paying our own way now so your comments about costs are irrelevant."

Daniels scrutinized Prime levelly. "What are you hiding, Prime?"

Prime looked at him with disdain on his handsome face. "What are  ** you ** hiding, Mr. Daniels?"

It was silent a moment in a room saturated with tension and the unspoken. No one spoke or moved as Daniels sat back to regard his opponent with cold calculation. "I'm the authorized representative of the United States State Department to Diego Garcia carrying the brief for the Autobot garrison and the N.E.S.T. program."

"And I am the Prime of Cybertron, the guardian not only of the Creation Matrix but the well-being and safety of all my people everywhere. I am commander of an army that was old when your people were still sitting in trees. Why someone on this base took pictures and released them, I do not know. I  ** will ** find them and there  ** will  ** be consequences."

"Are you making threats?" Daniels asked.

"I do not make threats. I make promises and I keep them. You might tell that to your superiors."

"I will," Daniels said. "The Secretary of State-"

"I wasn't referring to her," Prime said. "I was referring to Nast."

It was silent a moment, then Daniels sat back himself, regarding Prime levelly. "You have proof of your accusation?"

"I am not given to making unfounded accusations," Prime replied.

"Is that so," Daniels said as he glanced at his notes. "I’d appreciate a time in which I can see the children, to ascertain their existence on base. We're not in the habit of keeping children on a forward military base."

Prime leaned forward. "You will not be seeing anyone. This is an embassy and sovereign soil for Cybertron. Our treaties allow us to refuse requests from anyone including your President."

"Then my report to the State Department will note that you refused a reasonable request. And I might add, something that might defuse some of the rumors in the media about what’s actually going on here with the revelation about the children." He stared at Prime coldly. "I’m not your enemy. There’s a groundswell of discontent about your presence on our world and a number of other issues about your activity in this solar system. You’d do well to cultivate those of us in government and media who have influence. This report won’t view your activities kindly, Prime."

"I will file that one with the others," Prime said.

Daniels glanced up, looking at him sharply. "What?"

"I get a copy of your reports every week from the State Department as a courtesy. I thought you would know that given your self admitted importance to the way things work," Prime said as amusement crept into his voice.

"No, I wasn't aware of that," Daniels replied as Lennox smirked then shook his head. "I’ll bear it in mind," he said, shooting a harsh glance at the soldier. He looked back at Prime. "The public has a right to know about any changes here including the inclusion of children. They also have a right to know about the refugees. We were here first, Prime and a lot of our people resent your presence and consider you troublemakers and interlopers. It would do you a great deal of good to be forthcoming and truthful about things as they stand."

"And we have a treaty-granted right to privacy," Prowl replied coldly. "Our people do n’ t  ** have ** to be paraded around for the public. They’ve suffered enough. Considering that you never felt the effects of war and other catastrophes, I’m not surprised at your indifference to their hurts and traumas, Daniels."

"Then you'll have to bear the consequences of public opinion without having a hand in the formulation of the facts. I can help you but you consider me the enemy. I'm not the enemy. You could have a much softer landing than this if you cooperate with me," Daniels replied hotly.

"Why do you care?" Ironhide interjected. "You're the one marshaling public opinion against us, you and your owner, Nast."

It was silent a moment then Daniels closed his notebook. "I’m assuming that this meeting is over?"

"You can assume whatever you wish, Mr. Daniels," Prime said.

The room was silent a moment, then Daniels arose, walked to the ladder and climbed downward. He walked to the door and left, the atmosphere lifting as he did.

Lennox, Graham and Epps watched him go, then glanced at Prime who for a contained and disciplined individual was white hot with fury. Lennox leaned forward. "I have a few questions if you don't mind."

Prime smirked slightly. "Ask them, William. I can always refuse."

Lennox grinned. "I saw the images, some of them rather blurred. There's children here, right?"

Prime nodded. "Orphans we have undertaken to raise as our own."

"I've always wondered how small you were as children," Epps said with a grin. "I can hardly get my brain around how small they seemed compared to you."

Prowl smirked. "Dynamite comes in small packages," he said.

It broke the tension completely.

Ratchet grinned at Prowl. "Then it's true."

Prowl looked at Ratchet with a cool optic. "What's true, loon?"

"You actually have the beginnings of a sense of humor," Ratchet said.

Prowl stared at Ratchet almost too long with The Look, then sat back with a smug expression. "I’m a mech of many skills and abilities, loon. Look upon me and weep."

HUGE laughter greeted that.

"What you said, Prowler," Jazz said with a smile.

-0-Several minutes later

They stood in the doorway watching the children play. All four were kneeling on the floor, heads bent together to build with blocks under the watchful eyes of four Autobots, Sideswipe, Bumblebee, Hound and Trailbreaker. The mechs were handing them requested blocks, answering design questions as they played sweetly together. The looks of satisfaction and amusement on their faces were spark warming to see.

Lennox looked up, got a nod from Prime, then stepped inside. He walked to where the group was sitting on the floor. The kids noticed almost as one, then stared at him with surprise, this strange short alien. They glanced at Prime and the others.

Spirit moved toward T-Bar, leaning against him with fear clearly on his face. He stared at the human who was only just a bit taller than he was. He looked at Prime, saw his smile, then relaxed. Spirit stared at Lennox with unblinking optics. Looking at his brother, T-Bar, he turned back to Lennox then held out a block with hesitation.

Lennox who smiled took the block in hand, then looked at the building they were designing. He walked up and hefted it into place, looking at the children who smiled at him. He smiled back, unaware that he’d just finished a gun turret on a corner of The Fortress of Autobot City on Mars.

As the soldiers met the children, Autobots were already tracking the photos of the children back to the source.

  
  


Chapter 86

  
  


-0-On the command deck

Jazz frowned. He looked at Prime who was sitting nearby in a state of mild irritation. Jazz walked to him, pulling out a chair to sit. "It would appear that they didn't go out on the internet this time, Prime. None of the usual routes were used."

"Then they might be aware that we are on to them. I want this tracked down. We need to know who is the mule or if they are utilizing some transport function to send things away. The last thing we need is for more information on the children to get out," Prime said. "What kind of activity is happening around Nast and Intel-Martin?"

"A number of messages between 'High Flyer' and Nast. He wants 'the package' and Flyer is fixin' to deliver."

Prime thought a moment. "Put Autobot City on high alert. I do not think they know where Springer and Arcee are but I do not want to take any chances. The Mole must not succeed."

Jazz nodded. "When are we goin' to pull him out of his hole?"

"Not just yet," Prime said. "He is our direct line to Starscream." He considering a few things. "I think it might be a good time to feed him some false information and see if we can hit them back."

Jazz nodded, smiling without humor as he rose to make it happen. "Sounds good to me."

-0-Autobot City, Mars

Springer walked through the hub on the way to the Ops Center. He’d gotten the word to raise the threat level to high. Obviously, Prime felt there was a potential for attack. He walked past the refugees, many of them now working at some task in the facility, 'earning their keep' as the older ones mentioned from time to time. He reassured them but they insisted on being useful. They were the salt of the Earth as the humans said, the broad shoulders upon which a world stood.

Pausing at the stairs to let a femme and sparkling pass, he took them three at a time and was in the Ops Center in no time. He had organized his defense and the crews were in place. After alerting the refugees to the upcoming drills, Springer sat down at the command console and began to direct the first drill involving live ammunition. He would test run the turret guns and other defenses that would protect them in the matter of an attack.

When they were finished, they would exceed expectations by many degrees. If your life was threatened and you were protecting your family and friends, you’d be pretty slaggin' accurate, too, he thought as he commed his teams and they began all over again.

-0-Nast

He smiled as he relaxed in his chair. He had gotten an email that his desired objects would be delivered to him at a warehouse in Oregon. The kicker of the whole thing was he was expected to show up himself and take custody. High Flyer would be there and he wished to meet Nast face-to-face. It would be a good thing to meet someone who shared his values and outlook, he thought. The possibility of accumulating greater wealth and power waved in his face like a red cape.

He’d phoned his Field Ops director, Thomas Jaspers and he would get the team and equipment together to take the 'objects' back to Texas where his techs would be waiting. He would have the femme, Arcee and the mech, Springer. High Flyer seemed especially glad to be able to deliver Springer for reasons Nast couldn't quite understand but he didn't care.

He’d have two Autobots, their weapons systems, their advanced communications and self-repair capabilities. He would have their armor and their CPUs. The potential for earning by engineering products and weapons from all of this was staggering.

He leaned back in his chair, put up his feet and lit his Columbian cigar. Picking up a whiskey and soda, he sipped it and calculated the influence on the world he would have soon. He would be the most powerful man on Earth. He smiled as he relaxed in his chair. The sun setting on the horizon cast long shadows on his office floor. All was well in his world.

-0-Ratchet

He stood in the Rec Room considering the request. It was a nice holiday for the humans but it was without counterpart in Cybertronian culture. Christmas. A Christmas tree. The presents part had resonance. Giving gifts was a way to build familial and friendship ties almost everywhere and among every species he’d ever encountered that had material culture.

As for their own religion(s) … it was a forbidden topic to discuss with the humans. It was deeply personal for everyone. Religious holidays were specific and none of them revolved around anything more complex (usually) than a salute to Primus, his defeat of Unicron and the sincere hope that it stayed that way.

Lennox, Epps and Graham had assured him that the Christmas season had as much to do with religion as a person wanted and that the 'pretty' side was what a lot of people appreciated beyond the events it grew out of. 'You have kids now, Ratchet. Everyone is going to be celebrating Christmas. Maybe we can get a tree and decorations for your kids. They can have something pretty around to look at,' he had said.

A quick chat with Optimus who having seen Christmas trees before led to his agreement for the children's sake. Ratchet had, too, when he was parked on surveillance in front of Barney's in New York on a Christmas Eve. It still seemed incomprehensible to cut down a perfectly good tree, decorate and light it, then put it in a prominent place in your domicile to shed needles before being thrown away in the trash. Odd, humans. Then he agreed with Prime to let the soldiers know that the idea for the younglings was a good thing.

It would be, Ratchet thought. They could use pretty and fun, joy and laughter. Their reticence and fearfulness was dropping a few degrees but they were still delicate and needed lots of the right attention. Watching Sideswipe and Bluestreak walk past, Blue carrying Silverbow while Sideswipe held Spirit, he smiled.

Attention the younglings would get.

/ ...Now how do you get a Christmas tree? …/ he thought. He started out toward the N.E.S.T. HQ to ask.

-0-Nast

He cleared his week, making sure that the night of December 21st was open. That would be when he would pick up his 'artifacts'. Jaspers would have a four man team ready and two trucks to carry both away. He would be there in the ubiquitous black SUV that the company had in spades.

He would meet with High Flyer, take stock of him and maybe even find out how he had an inside track with the Decepticons. Maybe the billionaire mystery man could make the introductions and both of them could share the booty of such ventures. He felt good, better than good and in a few days he would be on his way to mastery of his own universe and more money and power than he could use. Such problems were good, he thought as he walked down the hallway of his office building.

Good, indeed.

-0-At the N.E.S.T. HQ

Ratchet knocked on the door then bent down to peer into the windows. A gaggle of femmes inside looked up to see him so a lot of high pitched squeeing followed. Raising back up, stepping back as the door opened, three air force and an army woman stepped out.

"Hi, Ratchet. What can we do for you?" they asked.

He looked at them with a grin on his sweet face. "I'm looking for Captain Lennox, Sargent Epps and/or Lieutenant Graham."

They looked at each other, then back up again. "They're in meetings."

"I see," Ratchet said.

"How can we help you?" an air force woman asked.

"Well … I, uh," Ratchet began with a sense of foreboding.

-0-A couple of joors later

They had brought things in, a few boxes and an artificial Christmas tree on the back of a hummer. Ratchet followed with the feeling that things had gotten waaaay out of hand. They had swarmed, overpowering him with their zeal and willingness to assist with the project. By the time he was finished counting his digits they were on their way. The group gathered at the door of the main hangar entrance.

"Where to, Ratchet?" Sargent Jessie Landon asked with a big grin on her pretty face.

He looked down, then up, wishing he could sigh. It was such a nice reflex, he thought. So much more so than another reflex he’d seen earlier that gave him the willies.

Spitting.

"Follow me," he said as he resigned himself to his fate.

Whatever it was.

The hummer followed Ratchet as he went into the hangar, driving around the tables and down a corridor for the room that was reserved for the kids, the same ones that were displayed on half the gossip websites, television shows and newspapers of the whole fraggin' world.

-0-Autobot City, Mars

They had debugged the system and the outer relay sensor array had come on line, sending information to both Teletraan II on Earth and its sister, Teletraan III on Mars. Prime had informed Springer that the effort by Starscream to deliver Arcee and him to Nast was go again. His irritation was only exceeded by his efficiency now that The Fortress had civilian refugees, including three, soon-to-be four sparklings.

Springer would work hard and Starscream would make a mistake. He didn't intend to be the one who'd falter. Arcee, for her part was advocating for the femmes, all four of them becoming a united group. He and Arcee were to stay on Mars and hunker down. The intel was coming in slowly but the goal was not changing. Nast wanted Arcee and him on a slab with faceless sparkless technicians slicing off parts of both of them. Fraggers, he thought. It would never happen.

-0-Younglings' play room

The soldier femmes had stood in the doorway looking at the four infants, their faces filled with excitement over seeing them up close and personal.

Ratchet entered and the younglings paused to look at him, spotting the humans as they did. Silverbow and Spirit rose immediately to walk to Sideswipe and Bluestreak who had returned to the room to sit with the other two infants. They slipped their arms around Sideswipe, sitting on his lap as they looked at the humans with their little unblinking blue optics. The other two were less fearful but reticent none the less.

"We have a surprise from the humans," Ratchet said kneeling down to the kids. {"I don't know how to do this but these soldier femmes are going to do it, then show you,}" he said in their language.

The younglings looked at him, then sat back to watch with wary optics as the cheerful femmes of the United States Armed Forces began to assemble a Christmas tree in the corner. By the time the balls and lights were strung, the children were creeping closer to look at the pretty lights and ornaments with fascination.

One of the femmes, a corporal named Clarice turned to see them, then held out a handful of tinsel to Silverbow. She stared at Clarice, then the tinsel before tentatively reaching out for it at last. She took it, then ran back to stand behind Bluestreak, holding the silver tinsel close as she watched the soldiers. They waited with smiles a moment, began to put some more on the tree.

When the tree was all trimmed, the soldiers hugged, thanked and gone away, only then did Silverbow walk to the tree and very carefully, one long strand at a time place it on the lighted bows

Ratchet and the others watched as emotion diminished conversation. They watched the tiny femme place each piece of tinsel just so.

-0-Jazz, later that afternoon

He walked to the conference room for the update briefing for Senior Autobots, sitting down to slide datapads to those there that held the latest intel. The operation was go and Nast was making preparations. They would use a jet to take the 'packages' to Texas from a pick up spot in Oregon. A team of four of his 'best operatives' would be run by the Field Ops general himself, Tom Jaspers.

They discussed the intel for a joor, then broke up to follow Ratchet to the younglings' play room. Entering, they stood along the wall and watched as emotion rose in their processors. The four little infants were sitting in a circle around the Christmas tree looking with bright optics at the pretty lights and decorations in the darkened room, touching them and watching them spin colorfully. Behind them, sitting together were a dozen off duty Autobots watching the children's delight with the same emotion.

Prime reached out and squeezed Prowl's servo. Neither trusted themselves to do anything more.

  
  


Chapter 87

  
  


-0-Diego Garcia

He walked from his barracks, strolling with a newspaper from home in his hand. He’d read it in the mess hall and found it interesting. His high school football team was on their way to the state championship playoffs, his hometown was getting money to rebuild the bridge that traversed the river out by his uncle's farm and the Autobot's children were a topic on everyone's mind.

That he was the one responsible for the children being common knowledge, something the Autobots were working hard to prevent didn't bother him. He was just doing his job.

For Nast.

The Intel-Martin C.E.O. had suggested that they change up some of their routings and when Todd had requested a change of assignment he’d given the packet of photos and observations to Todd to carry out with him. He said it was a resume. The only reason that Todd didn't chuck it I the garbage was Nast had asked him to bring it to him personally. So he did.

Nast had disseminated it throughout the media by contacts cultivated and purchased through years of effort. The children were speculated upon by people all over the world who only had a peripheral sense of who and what the Cybertronians actually were.

Images circulated on the internet, youtube hosting channels with blurred video that often were taken down by order of the Department of Defense as well as images from cell phones that showed very indistinct giant colorful robots usually shooting things up. There was only one blurred image of Optimus Prime and that disappeared on the day it hit the internet.

What people didn't know was that the Autobots had roving internet spiders working tirelessly to find images that were taboo as well as taking down any of Optimus. That included all images, especially those that were clear enough to detect much detail. The release of the pictures of the children to widespread viewership was something that no one could put back into the bottle.

His colleagues were furious, especially the special ops from N.E.S.T. who knew the Autobots best. Listening to them speculate that someone on base was a spy sent a chill down his spine  so he worked harder to be extra careful. He was afraid of what they would do to him if he made a mistake and was uncovered. He would have to be sneakier than he already was.

What he didn't know was that the Autobots already knew and were doubling down on him as he walked unaware and at relative ease. He walked into the office where he worked and greeted the three Army and two Air Force women who promptly told him about the Christmas tree that they had set up for the 'adorable little kids' in the Autobot HQ.

-0-December 21st, early morning

They left on Cosmos, disappearing into the darkened skies without drawing attention. They had walked to the ship in ones and twos, their gear stowed on board over a period of days. Jazz, Mirage, Sideswipe, Ironhide, Hound and Optimus were gone, flying away to a rendezvous with Nast.

He’d bought their story that High Flyer had procured Arcee and Springer and would bring them to a warehouse in Oregon for him to pick up. He’d bought the invitation to come in person to meet High Flyer, to discuss future projects and his ties to the Decepticons, who High Flyer had intimated were responsible for his bounty.

The Autobots led by Jazz had blocked any of these communications from going to the real High Flyer who wouldn't know this event was occurring. They rerouted Nast's emails in and out of Teletraan II, ghosting replies to the two messages High Flyer had intended for him to get so Starscream wouldn't know they were attempting to nail his puppet.

Optimus sat on Cosmos comm linked to Diego and Prowl, discussing the arrangements for their 'guest' when they returned. He asked for status on Autobot City and felt a swell of pride in the results of the munitions testing and the organization Springer had instituted. He commed off and relaxed, aware that Nast had no idea of the firepower he was going to face and that they would have a possible 'ally' into the next phase of Optimus' thinking … the capture or death of Starscream.

At this point with the number of sparks depending on sanctuary both at Autobot City and beyond in the galaxy, he was willing to entertain the later.

-0-Rogue Valley, Oregon

They had arrived the night before to scout the warehouse, then settling into a motel in the nearby town of Central Point. The warehouse was just a short hop from the Rogue Valley International Medford Airport and they’d arranged their trucks and routes accordingly. He could see why High Flyer chose the area. It had enough of what they needed without being too urban to be a problem.

The area they were operating within had open spaces scattered among businesses and big box stores. It was perfect for a hand off. There was very little activity beyond Crater Lake Highway and a few roads used by trucks to skirt traffic once darkness set in. The warehouse was part of several next to Central Point Software and was surrounded by a chain link fence. The gates were open during the day and closed at night, the time the pickup would be made. No problem, Nast and Jaspers considered. It was otherwise relatively lightly secured.

Walking back to their SUV, the two men drove into Medford and had lunch at the Far East Restaurant, unaware that they were being followed by a jeep and a Bentley Continental, their holographic drivers intent upon their asses.

-0-Central Point, Oregon, T-minus four joors

They parked in the lot of the Rogue Valley Fairgrounds, scattered here and there as they waited for nightfall. Cosmos had let them out in a field south of the Shakespearean town of Ashland, the dirt road that cut it in two leading them to Interstate 5 and the short eighteen mile drive to Medford.

The warehouse they’d arranged was innocuous and secure enough to funnel the enemy inside so they could be more easily subdued. Nights in the area this time of year were very dark so they’d be able conclude their business without much fuss once they neutralized the lighting both inside and outside of the warehouse. Of course, two of them would already be parked inside, cutting the odds even more in their favor.

Nast and Jaspers' plane was due to land in two joors so they broke up, Sideswipe and Jazz rolling to the warehouse to wait inside. Ironhide and Prime would maintain surveillance of the warehouse from posts nearby while Mirage and Hound would follow the enemy during the downtime leading to the night incursion before Mirage would become the bait car.

All it took now was patience.

-0-Diego Garcia

The mole finished work, walking toward the flight line to get the cricks out of his legs. The planes fascinated him, the real ones and the Autobots. The Aerialbots that had been missing had just arrived, transforming to walk to the piece of land beyond that the others had claimed as their own. It had been an awesome sight to watch, three gigantic robotic entities walking together with excitement toward the tie-down where two others waited, one of them who transformed to wave.

They saw him and walked where they were waiting, gathering together to talk like the family they were. It was odd to see something familiar, friends excitedly greeting friends among such different creatures.

The normal flights were going in and out, the big bombers sat nearby, their wings sagging at rest and Cosmos was gone. He wondered where the shuttle had gone, perhaps to the Oort Field to do sensor work. He often did that and it amazed him that Cosmos could go to the edge of the solar system, to the fucking solar well and back again in less than half a day. That was past Pluto he thought, shaking his head with amazement.

He walked back, stretched and relaxed. He was filled with admiration for the entities among them. As he passed the Autobot HQ, he saw a very small Autobot standing in the doorway peering out. It was small, white and red and had a little Autobot insignia on his shoulder. He stared at the mole, looking at him intently, then stepped back shyly into the shadows. Big hands reached down to pick him up and he disappeared into the hangar, looking over an Autobot's shoulder, watching him as he watched the child. The mole watched a moment, staring inside the Embassy as he wished he could come inside. Then he walked on.

The irony of the moment and his actions were completely lost upon him as he did.

-0-Oregon, at T minus 2 breems

The sky was dark overhead, the kind of velvety black that only Northwestern skies could muster. The SUV bearing Nast and Jaspers along with two of their four hired guns drove toward the warehouse along the road that ran parallel to it. They drove past it, moving onward, peering at it with night vision glasses.

No one was moving and it seemed calm and normal. Then a car shot past them going in the other direction, heading toward the warehouse to turn into it. The gate of the fence moved, motivated by an electronic switch most likely held by the driver of the vehicle.

They turned around to roll up, pausing by the road that led to the warehouse. They watched as a late model Bentley Continental drove in to park by the warehouse, the shadows of the building blocking a clear view.

"What do you think?" Jaspers asked, glancing at Nast.

"I think Mr. High Flyer drives a nice car," Nast said with a smirk. "Let's go. Can't keep our good friend waiting."

Jaspers radioed the other two operatives to sit tight in the trucks they were driving parked farther away on the turn outs on the Medco Haul Road. Nast drove slowly forward, the men behind him slipping the safeties off the handguns they carried. Rolling down the dirt track to the warehouse, they took stock of the area.

Parked to one side, shadows from the smaller outbuildings obscuring it somewhat was a large Peterbilt semi tractor truck. Nearby with a tarp partially obscuring it, a GMC pick up also was parked. The Bentley sat near the door to the warehouse so they rolled closer. They turned the SUV around then rolled backwards to park so it would be facing outward in case of problems.

They sat in the SUV a moment, then they all stepped out, the two armed men moving as planned to the warehouse to scout out the perimeter as Nast and Jaspers stood out front looking this way and that. Nast who pulled out a handgun and slipped off the safety walked toward the GMC pick up. With care and skill, he peered under the tarp and into the cab spying nothing out of order. Jaspers checked out the semi, admiring the paint scheme even as it prickled something deep in his mind.

Walking back to meet their two operatives, they walked toward the building and aimed together with silencers engaged. Shooting in tandem, they put out the big spotlights that had given the area a decent amount of light. Then they walked to the warehouse to enter it. Behind them covered in the cloak of darkness, a pick up truck and a semi tractor transformed quietly, unsheathing weapons of their own as they walked toward a Bentley that was already fading away from view.

-0-Inside at the same time

A big box sat in the middle of an empty warehouse along with a pair of covered shapes that appeared to be cars. A black tarp covered what appeared to be a Lamborghini and a white tarp covered what appeared to be a silver Porsche. Both of them were parked against the back wall well away from the big box in the middle. Nast and Jaspers who were leaning against the wall sent their two hired guns to scout the situation as they provided cover.

A thorough investigation revealed no one present so they walked together toward the box, a single overhead light the only illumination for the entire room.

"Where's High Flyer?" Nast asked as he looked around, his gun held in readiness.

"I don't know," Jaspers said with nervous tension in his voice. He walked to the door they’d just entered. Opening it, he froze to the spot.

A light filtered in, orangish yellow and a hot wave of energy with it. Nast turned to look, then froze as well as the four of them looked into a cylinder of molten lava. It was leveled to the door, pointing directly at them and at the end of it clenched tightly was an enormous black metallic fist.

Backing away at last as prickly needles of fear infused their entire bodies, they staggered toward the middle of the room. As they did, the sounds of transformation filled the warehouse as the two covered cars changed. Covers slid off and they rose up, weapons drawn, their faces reflecting cold blooded murder. They moved forward, one of them rolling on wheel skates as the other walked silently on metallic feet that looked like they could kick a hole through titanium.

The light caught the two in shadows, the frightening aspect of their expressions and the incredible firepower they wielded blanking the minds of the humans as they turned in a circle, jerkily pointing their own inadequate weapons at the two who were advancing and the gigantic cannon filling their only escape route.

Then the warehouse doors began to slide upward, the sound of them grating and intense in the coagulated silence that surrounded them. They turned to stare with terror on their faces as they saw the beginnings of feet, of massive blue legs and then the legs, themselves knelt as a face appeared before them, a face from their deepest nightmares.

The door slammed loudly beside them. They jolted, then looked at it, seeing it as their only escape. They ran to it and tugged, unable to pull it open. Then there was another in the growing hangar doorway, a huge black hulking presence followed by a hulking green giant as a third joined them. They moved toward the box and bumped into something. They turned this way and that, their guns pointed as stared into a nightmare. Reaching out a shaking hand, Nast felt something metallic and jumped back, shouting loudly in fright at an invisible force.

As they stood in a group, backs pressed against the box, a shape solidified in front of them, a tall blue and white Autobot. He knelt, peering down into their faces with scorn and disgust clearly on his face. "Boo," he said softly as Optimus Prime and Ironhide stepped inside and the doors slowly began to fall, sealing off the scene from outside.

  
  


Chapter 88

  
  


-0-Ops Center, Diego Garcia

Prowl stood by at the communications station listening to the audio of the mission that had gone to Oregon to close a window in their operation. He was profoundly annoyed but only a person well versed in his persona would know that. Door wings arched high, a coiled tension in his posture, he thought briefly of the source of his ire.

The mole was never off their radar now, followed either by optics or sensors day and night. Every single sneeze he made was logged and data miners were detailing every possible communications possibility that he could access.

He was their nemesis and Prowl was on guard. What truly ripped him happened earlier.

Spirit who was mustering the nerve to peer out of the hangar door had spotted a human passing by. Unattended for just a brief moment as Prowl checked off a datapad handed to him, he’d moved to the door to look out. The little mech had met optics with a human who had paused outside to smile at him, holding his gaze for a moment. Finally, fearfully, Spirit shifted back shyly into the building.

Prowl who had turned back to the youngling again noticed who the human Spirit was watching was. He was the mole who had made public knowledge of Spirit's presence among them, thereby raising the danger factor for his safety exponentially.

Quickly, Prowl had picked him up, retreating to the youngling room as fast as he could. It still rankled him greatly and he’d tell Optimus about it when the team came back with their prize. He had no doubts that they would. But he would hold the moment in abeyance, allowing the team to focus on the master even as he wanted to go to the apprentice and rend him limb from limb.

-0-A warehouse in Oregon

They stood in front of the box, arms pointed upward as the six gigantic monsters moved closer, their own weapons aimed back at them. Nast who was gasping for air in his fright stepped to the side pointing his gun at Hound. He fired, emptying his clip into Hound's chassis but the bullets bounced off to land here and there, some of them at Nast's feet, to gouge holes in the concrete.

No one spoke, the six pairs of blue optics watching as the humans milled around each other trying to find something to save them from what the Autobots knew they believed was a slow and horrible death. Finally, one of the hired guns tossed his weapon down and raised his hands, stepping forward uncertainly.

** " ** ** **I surrender! Don't shoot me!** ** ** " ** he cried as a big hand reached down to grab him.

Jazz held him high, then gazed downward, bringing his weapon closer. "Drop your guns or I'll make sure you don't have a home to go to ever again."

The three looked at him and the others, then threw their guns down, the weapons skittering toward Ironhide. He picked them up and pinched them between his fingers, dropping them at the feet of the three men who looked at them with disbelief.

Jazz set the man he was holding down on the box, then picked up the others, placing them on the lid as well.

Optimus Prime who was watching without a word moved closer and knelt as he scrutinized them. He stared at them silently, allowing his anger and menacing affect to work its usual magic.

Nast who was gathering himself together cleared his dry throat as he swallowed hard. "I'm William Nast of Intel-Martin."

Optimus nodded, leaning even closer to Nast. "We know," he said, his deep baritone filled with darkness. "I am Optimus Prime."

Nast closed his eyes and exhaled, a soft keening sound coming from deep inside.

-0-Starscream

He huddled on the bluff nearby their ship, the crashed Nemesis no more comfortable than the stones and dirt he sat upon now. Nast had wanted Springer and Arcee even more than before and he’d decided to give them to him. He had to locate them so he leaned upon the mole, the treacherous human that was playing Nast and him off against one another.

Of course, the pitiful insect didn't know he was aware of that. The insect Daniels wasn't aware that his 'billionaire ideological' friend was a Decepticon either and he would use both of them to find his prey.

Starscream was an expert at such maneuvers.

He was also aware that Nast knew he, High Flyer had ties to the Decepticons. Starscream had dropped enough hints that the dolt finally got it. He knew that Nast found proximity to that much danger a drug. 'Danger junkies' the insects called that kind of personality. 'Useful idiot' was what Starscream called them.

He’d sent a message to the board, thereby getting word to the mole that he wanted the location of Arcee and Springer. He wanted them for Nast to seal the deal, to make him so tainted that he couldn't possibly give up on the gravy train or if caught, get a deal that could be less worse than facing Starscream's wrath.

His mind was still hazy and Springer, Optimus Prime's bond was still an obsession that wouldn't go away. He’d wanted to give Springer back with a present for Prime but giving him to Nast to be carved into bits and pieces wasn't a bad idea either. Both would be fine, the attainable one would be sufficient over the preferred one.

Thundercracker and Skywarp who were perched on a rocky outcropping nearby watched Starscream with concern, exchanging glances as they waited. His obsessions were becoming troublesome and the nearness to the truth each interface allowed was also troublesome. Their firewalls were being questioned and it was almost a relief that the obsession with Prime was so diverting. It kept Starscream that much farther than finding out the truth.

They dreaded the orn he did.

-0-Oregon

"What do you want?"

The question hung in silence as they stared at the Autobots who towered over them with expressions ranging from grim disgust to homicidal rage. One of them, a red bot with psychotic eyes rolled slowly in a circle, his eyes never leaving them as his sheathed and unsheathed his swords.

The blue and white one was standing to one side looking at them as if they were the lowest form of life he’d ever encountered. A smaller bot, a black visored one who had picked them up was beside him, his hand resting on the snob's shoulder. It was hard to see the face of the big monster before them, a solid black creature with enormous cannons and a head with spires like satanic horns topping it. His eyes could drop a charging bull with a single glance, Nast thought in a rare lucid moment.

The green bot, tall and stoic stood behind their leader, his optics fixed on the four even as he trained his weapons to follow their every movement. Their leader studied them, allowing them to stew in their juices, then he leaned forward again. "You have been a very, very bad boy, Mr. Nast. We have been following you since the beginning, watching your every move, your contacts with High Flyer, your treason."

Nast swallowed. "I … if you let me explain..."

"We shall," Optimus said, rising once again. "Back at Diego Garcia." He nodded to Jazz who moved toward them. The last thing Nast could remember seeing clearly was steel fingers reaching down to grasp him tightly.

-0-Ops Center, Diego Garcia

Prowl commed confirmation back, then stepped away giving the conn to Ratchet who was sitting at Teletraan II. Walking out of the command center, turning left toward the officer's quarters corridor, he reached his own then opened the door quietly. Sitting on a chair reading a novel, First Aid glanced up. He nodded toward the over-sized berth where three little mechs were in recharge, a soft blanket covering them as they lay together with their arms around each other.

Prowl walked to them, leaning down to fuss with the blanket. He kissed Rambler's helm then turned toward First Aid. "They're coming back with the prisoners. I don't know when I can be back but I can have Blue relieve you, First Aid."

"I'm fine, Prowl. I don't mind." First Aid looked at the younglings, the first ones this small he’d ever seen in his life. "I enjoy them."

Prowl squeezed Aid’s shoulder. "So do I," he said looking at them fondly. Then he nodded to First Aid and left the room to go back to Ops Center again.

-0-On the way

They’d bundled the prisoners into the box and loaded it onto Prime's trailer. Driving out slowly, leaving a few nanokliks apart, they drove back to the field outside of Ashland for pickup. Cosmos set down and they transformed, pulling the wooden box out of Prime's trailer. The big truck transformed himself then climbed aboard. Taking off slowly, Cosmos cleared the atmosphere to roar into a higher altitude that would allow him to drop into Diego Garcia without wasted time.

By the time he’d landed, a Black GMC pick up truck rolled out of Cosmos' hold with a tarp covering its bed. Optimus Prime, Hound, Mirage, Sideswipe and Jazz followed spread out over two breems and walked to the HQ as if it were any other day.

-0-Later on that morning

Graham and Epps were jogging to the obstacle course intending to work out before the heat settled in. They’d be going home for Christmas break, a period that would extend into January, a full thirty day leave. They would be on call, of course and their families knew that they would be. But they'd be together for Christmas and New Years, a bittersweet thing. They loved their comrades and enjoyed their company. Seeing in the New Years with the Autobots was a great occasion and they already missed it.

Jogging onward, prepared already for Cosmos to drop them off at Vandenburg Air Base so they could be home swifter and longer, they passed the HQ without a clue.

-0-Prime

He entered the command deck grinning at Prowl who rose and walked to him, both embracing each other. Prime who felt warmed from helm to ped got the executive version from Prowl. They walked toward the corridor door that led toward home after giving the command to Jazz who’d followed them in.

Jazz smiled at the sight of two of the most egregiously dedicated and self denying bots he’d ever known indulging in a little bit of PDA. It was cute.

Like seeing your 100 year old grandparents hugging each other.

He laughed then walked to the command table to sit and get caught up on the situation elsewhere.

Prime and Prowl walked to their quarters to enter quietly, nodding to First Aid who was working on his third novel by then. Pausing by the berth, Prime smiled down at the three little mechs who were cuddled together.

Prowl leaned against him, staring at the mechs with a soft expression.

Prime glanced at Prowl, then thought back to the bluff on Mars and the sad tale of Bluestreak.

Prowl had been traumatized by the fall of Praxus as had Ironhide but they seldom if ever talked about it. The horror of their city falling into ashes was something all the Autobots could recount. They all had the same story but not everyone had been back to their homes, sifting through the dead on familiar streets for anything at all that might live. Those that did seldom mentioned it, so traumatic and spark destroying were the images and sounds seen there. Prowl and Ironhide were no exceptions. That bit of terror they held in abeyance.

Seeing Bluestreak wandering, however, shocked and bleeding, frightened out of his own self awareness for some time after that had been severe. Bluestreak was his son now, the only known actual survivor of an attack of annihilation on an entire city once filled with life, learning, beauty and a thriving population. A smoldering crater in the ground translated to a smoldering memory in his mind, but Prowl had saved himself by saving Bluestreak. Now here with these three mechs he was doing it again.

Prime knew that they would raise the mechs, that Prowl would be as tireless and protective with them as he was with Bluestreak. It was fine with him. Someone had to take them in and give them hope and happiness once more. There were five more orphans at Autobot City that needed someone and he would have to make sure they got someone to love and care for them and their special condition. Having these mechs and the femme here would make that easier to do. The Autobots loved these little ones deeply.

He watched as Prowl took Rambler's servo and tucked it under the covering. Then together, they walked to the door to thank First Aid quietly and head back to the matters at hand once more.

-0-In the brig

They sat in separate cells, bars of energy preventing them from even thinking of escaping. Red Alert with weapon in hand sat on a bench in front of them, watching with only an intensity that he could provide. Inferno who was standing nearby with his weapon in full display followed Prime's orders.

"Scare them to death, Inferno."

Prime had said that to him and he’d nodded, only too glad to oblige. These were the turbo rats that were harassing the kids, marshaling the public against them everywhere they could and these were the fraggers that wanted to carve up Springer and Arcee.

Over his dead chassis, Inferno said to himself, his anger clearly displayed in all its horrifying glory. The two stood and sat by the wall watching the humans squirm as they awaited Prime once more.

  
  


Chapter 89

  
  


-0-Diego Garcia

The day drifted by with the soldiers leaving for their break. They came by to say adieu. Cosmos was taking them to Vandenburg and a couple of other bases that were close to their actual homes to cut down on the drive time. There were N.E.S.T. soldiers about but they weren't the first string, most of whom were survivors of the base attack by Blackout a few years back.

No one could imagine that the Autobots had prisoners in their brig and without their permission to enter or a disclosure on the Autobot's part, no one ever would.

Prime followed by Jazz and Ironhide headed to the brig, nodding to the jailers as they walked down to the cells. Inside, sitting on the ground in complete fear and dejection, Nast and his party waited.

They stirred, arising slowly and fearfully, the enormity of their situation dawning upon them anew. They were in the hands of a different completely alien point of view. They had no idea that these robotic entities could understand that they were fragile and easily killed. They wouldn't know that they had rights and protections because they were American, human and this was  ** their ** planet filled with their  ** own  ** kind. Given that they had always delivered the fear and pain before, this was a new and completely terrible experience for them to see it first hand for themselves.

What if these aliens used summary execution and no one would ever find out what happened to them? What if they handed them over to their other colleagues and they were used for weird alien experiments? All of the most haunting scenes of every alien movie they’d ever seen had passed through their minds, collecting in their guts to make short work of their personal courage, self-image and egos.

They were at the mercy of machines, constructs like their computers, cars and microwaves. How could anyone hope to believe that such things could have souls, empathy and the ability to understand how much they could hurt another being? How much 'other' were these creatures?

It all crossed their minds that they were in the custody of individuals that might not have the capacity to think about the differences between right and wrong any more than a car could when the driver runs a red light. There might not be any sort of reflection, no moral capacity nor any hope of coming out of this in one piece. That they themselves didn't accord anything close to the same to their own numerous victims, members of their own species, didn't enter their minds once.

Prime could see the emotions and could almost follow their thinking line by line. Leaving them in the brig alone, guarded by two of the most intense Autobots in the garrison was part of the strategy that he was going to be using to get what he wanted in the end, Starscream. Cut off the head of the snake, the body dies. A wise thought the humans were wont to say. So true, he thought as he stared at them.

Moving closer, looking down from his great height, he considered them. One of them, a hired gun stepped forward. "I'm just a hired hand. I didn't have a say in what they were doing. I'm just a worker. I'd like to know what you want to know. I might be able to help you."

Nast looked at his employee as fury formed on his face. He clenched his hands.  ** **"Traitor!"** **

Ironhide snorted. "That's amusing. We were sort of thinking that about you, Nast."

Nast glanced upward sharply as Ironhide stepped toward him. He moved away to bump into the cell's bench as he did. They looked at each other, Autobot and human, then Prime nodded to Red Alert. The Autobot reluctantly released the bars.

Prime then bent down slowly with his hand reaching out, gripped Jaspers then rose up again, stepping back so the bars could be reactivated. Turning without a sound, he walked out with the others and his prize leaving the rest of them to listen to the screams of Jaspers until they died away.

Inferno who retrieved his place against the wall once more stared at them without mercy as the silence enveloped them again.

-0-Ratchet

He worked in Ops Center as the drama in the brig continued. Ironhide had filled him in with their usual shorthand as he continued with Optimus toward the ultimate goal: Starscream. It was nearly Christmas and here they were sitting around figuring out how to make life better against the tide.

He’d hit the internet to figure out what it was all about in more detail and considered that he liked it, the multi-layered concept of joyous materialism and solemn religiosity an interesting blend of the sacred and profane. He was no slouch in the profane department. He’d after all first met Ironhide when he was trawling the Citadel Medical Center for dates, it would seem. He, of course, had been terribly smitten. Ratchet smiled as he remembered …

"So, Ratchet, how about a drink after shift?" Ironhide had asked as he stood in the doorway, shiny, handsome, dashing, and intensely masculine, his red cape gracing his huge body.

Ratchet who was lounging in his office after a long day of fixing up shiny, handsome, dashing and intensely masculine mechs who didn't seem to grasp the concept of ducking was smitten even more though he’d refused a drink the night before in a bar after being finally introduced by a drunken mutual friend with tentacle digits. Laying the friend out had taken no time but it had impressed the big mech with the bluest optics Ratchet had ever seen a great deal. Intrigued though he was, Ratchet couldn't let the big lug know too much. What would be the fun in that? "Sure."

Ironhide with a satisfied smirk on his face and a swagger in his rather intriguingly awesome aft turned on his peds and left. Ratchet who was no slouch in the looks department himself given the number of mechs that hit on his yellow chassis with almost comical regularity smirked. "See how much  ** you ** swagger when  ** I ** get through with you, Ironhide."

He sat back closing his eyes in fatigue and considered the big black mech who just happened to turn up everywhere he went after the bar scene. He was even sure if he opened the cooler he would see big blue handsome optics leering out at him. Ratchet liked him, loved his big format, his funny sense of humor and even his designation.

Iron. Hide.

He surely had it. Lord knows his colleagues had put it back together enough times. He had once himself. It was hard to have distance when you're face down inside a big chassis while the servos of said chassis caressed your aft. Even the threat of a rap on the helm with a hammer couldn't swerve the aforementioned mech from his eternal fondles.

Ratchet had shined himself up at the hospital shower racks and was walking to the entrance when he saw Ironhide standing in the doorway haloed by the light, waiting for him as he said he would. Ratchet felt his spark tug, then he gathered himself together to pause in front of his date. "So … what brings you here, big boy?"

"Good lookin' mechs," Ironhide said slipping his arm around Ratchet to apply his hand to Ratchet's back for the first time ever.

"You look for dates at  ** hospitals ** ?" Ratchet asked as he laughed, finding a gentlemanly touch a nice change of pace for once.

"Never know what will crawl out. Literally," Ironhide said chuckling at his own audacity.

They went to a nice club, drank a lot of high grade and danced. Ironhide couldn't, Ratchet was a whiz. Somewhere in the middle, Ratchet fell in love and never left. However, that didn't mean he wouldn't make Ironhide work for his reward. Ratchet didn't put out on the first date. What was there to do on the second one if you did, he thought with a chuckle as they swayed and sashayed their way out into the dark night of Iacon.

Ironhide who was seduced by Ratchet from first glance gripped him around the waist as they both walked down the empty street. Behind them the sound of laughter, chatter and music faded. They were both drunk and feeling no pain while the idea of making it to the Citadel where both were stationed on peds alone looked at this point daunting.

Ironhide paused on the sidewalk to look this way and that for transport. There was none. He looked at Ratchet who was swaying as he grinned at him. "You look beautiful."

"You're pretty cute yourself," Ratchet managed before they launched themselves at each other. Staggering backward into an alley necking furiously, they fell to the ground rolling repeatedly to slam into the building wall. Then they gave in to drink and fell into a stuperous recharge.

The next day the sound of garbage collection drones woke them up so they walked to the Citadel to start a new day. It would be a longer chase this time but in the end they would both give in.

Ratchet's way.

-0-Sideswipe and Bluestreak

They sat together in the lounge off the Rec Room, peds up on the table before them as Bluestreak snuggled against Sideswipe's chassis. "Sunstreaker is aware you're with me." He grinned as he pulled Blue closer.

"You and your bond," Bluestreak said looking up at Sideswipe. "Tell him hi for me."

Sideswipe paused a moment to do so, then chuckled. "You don't want to hear what he replied."

Blue grinned as he snuggled closer, watching the mechs in the Rec Room beyond playing cards, chatting and laughing. It felt like home.

-0-Ironhide v Ratchet

"You're kidding."

Ratchet could remember the exact words and expression on Ironhide's face as he laid down his terms as well as the wrench he’d used to tighten the last bolt on Ironhide's knee assembly.

"Nope."

Ironhide looked at Ratchet, considering the challenge in his optics, the smirk on his face and the incredible attraction of his yellow aft. "You're on."

"You're finished," Ratchet said glancing over his shoulder.  **"** ** **NEXT FOOL** ** **!"**

Ironhide hopped down, skirting Ratchet and as the medico turned back to the berth to clean up. Ironhide gave him a sound slap on his yellow aft.

Ratchet turned toward the big goof then shook his head. He held up the tools in his hand. "You'll have to do better than that," Ratchet said. "You aren't the only mech out there."

Ironhide knowing the truth of that smirked. "But  ** I'm ** the one who’s going to land you, ya big yellow aft."

"Don't try and sweet talk me, Ironhide," Ratchet said laughing loudly.

"Tonight. I'll come and get ya," Ironhide said as he walked to the door with an excess of satisfaction in his step.

Ratchet watched him go then smiled. Tonight was going to be fun.

Ironhide clearing the door casually hurried to the medical library annex down the corridor then pulled a cable out of his wrist. Plugging in, he searched the database and pulled up relevant files, books, treatises and entertainment videos as he brushed up on his technique for the evening.

/… audition for ya, ya slagger …  ** I ** don't have to audition … when I 'face someone they  ** stay ** 'faced … frag,  ** that's ** a good one …/

He downloaded that one and several others, then headed for the mech's club down the street to get a wash, a wax and a detailing for the only mech he would ever demean himself enough to woo to this degree of humiliation.

Ratchet the awesome, he thought. Ratchet the one who by Primus was going to be his. For Ratchet the Beautiful, Ironhide would suffer.

-0-Bluestreak and Sideswipe

They sat on the couch necking, talking quietly and enjoying the company of the other. Winding down with someone was a good thing, Sideswipe thought with smirk. :… Right, Sunny? …:

: ** **F** ** ** **RAG YOU, SIDESWIPE** ** **! I’** **LL KICK YOUR AFT! I’LL TEAR YOUR** ** **AFT OFF** ** **AND SHOVE IT DOWN YOUR THROAT!** :

That was when Sideswipe tamped down the twin bond, preferring to give all the attention he had to Bluestreak and his amazing lips.

-0-Ratchet and Ironhide

He stood in the doorway of the hospital, shined, spiffed and ready to rumble. Ironhide arrived at about the same time as shiny as a new penny himself. They admired their reflection in the others chassis, having a good joke about how slippery it was going to be shortly. Then they walked off together on the first day of the great adventure that was going to be Ratchet v Ironhide in The Bosom of Love™.

-0-Lounge

A rap on the wall interrupted their moment. They looked up, then straightened up quickly. Prowl who was standing in the doorway with a severe expression on his face shook his head. "No intimacy for three decaorns."

Bluestreak nodded, glancing at a shame-faced Sideswipe.

Prowl turned to go, then paused by the door with a smirk. "You might thank Sunstreaker for me knowing about you two." Then he left with a soft chuckle trailing behind.

Bluestreak who smiled in spite of himself looked at Sideswipe who had an expression of intense surprise on his face.

Sideswipe looked distant as he opened up the twin bond again. : **S** **UNSTREAKER** **!** **YOU FRAGGER**!:

A voice trailed over Sideswipe’s outrage: “What’s that, Sideswipe? I can’t hear you.”

Bluestreak sat back, anticipating the entertainment value of their endless moments some day soon when he’d be able to hear it, too.

-0-Prime

He walked into the conference room then set Jaspers on the table, one of the soldier's chairs catching him as he shrank back. Prime, Ironhide, Jazz, Prowl and Springer were facing him. Springer came in from Autobot City just for the paybacks of the interrogation. They stared down at the human, himself almost insignificant in comparison.

"Mr. Jaspers, I want to know what you know. And I need you to make sure you do not leave out a thing," Optimus said.

Jaspers stared at Prime, his mind in a jumble, then he decided to throw himself on the mercy of the truth. He sat back, gathered his thoughts and began to spill his guts, Nast be damned.

By the time he was finished, it was clear that Nast probably would be.

Chapter 90

  
  


=0=Earlier

They sat at a table in the Rec Room together, their servos in their laps and their little blue optics following everything silently. Around them sat many of the off duty mechs enjoying the company of the younglings, some of them for the first time in their lives since their own childhood.

Bluestreak and Sideswipe directed by Ratchet mixed the energon formula that the little ones were going to be on for a while to ease their little stressed underdeveloped chassis back into shape for regular energon.

Silverbow watching Hound as Trailblazer held her cup was as silent as ever. The two of them found she loved her little cup, even sleeping with it as she recharged between them. It was probably the first personal possession she ever had. It was yellow, had her name on it in Cybertronian glyphs and was designed and gifted to her by Sunstreaker before she left for Earth. All of the mechs present were watching carefully as Ratchet explained how their food would work for a while.

They each received their cups filled with the special formula, the three little mechs and the femme. Then the difficult part began. Hound and Trailbreaker nervously stood behind Silverbow as Hound knelt to encourage her. She took dainty sips with long pauses between. She was still suffering from deprivation and the newer belief that someone would take her cup away from her, this first real possession of her life.

Hound looked worriedly at Ratchet. He rose, then walked to the medic. "Why isn’t she drinking more? She's so little and ... she's ... I'd think she would be hungry."

Ratchet took them aside. "She's been without for so long that she can't believe she can have what she's got. She also isn't entirely well. I put supplements in the energon for the minerals and metals that they weren't given. I also put something in to soothe assimilation of the energon. They could be harmed if fed too fast or too rich. You have to be patient. There's no right or wrong way here to get them to eat. They  ** will ** eat if we don't make an issue of it."

Hound with a stricken expression leaned into Trailbreaker for a moment before pulling himself together. Turning back to the babies, he walked to the little femme and knelt down again, smiling at her as she sipped once more. She smiled back at him scooting slightly toward him in her chair. His expression was incredible as he moved closer to her.

Rambler, T-Bar and Spirit were doing better. Rambler helped his brothers as he sat with them, his servo under their cups as they rested between sips, the effort of eating clear on their face. Getting even this level of nutrition was a marvel and it took a while to assimilate it. Hunger had been a constant in their lives for a long time.

The Autobots behind and around them were grim-faced with the outrage of the children’s suffering and the unspoken truth that there were more sparklings, younglings and adults out there that needed them, too. For every rescue no matter how big there were thousands and thousands more that needed them.

=0=Conference room, Autobot HQ, Diego Garcia

Tom Jaspers spilled his guts detailing the entire operation of Intel-Martin from his vantage point and access. They were working with a mysterious billionaire code named High Flyer to capture Autobots. The idea was to take the technology and apply it to weapons and other highly salable items, using the cash to destabilize foreign governments and finance the rise in American and European politics of people who would be amenable to the bidding of both. These individuals didn’t like the aliens and wanted them gone but not before they pillaged their technology for their own personal gain.

They were behind all of the interdictions the Autobots had made including Denver where Ironhide had almost died. They were the group that the trade-off would most benefit once they received the weapons. The biker gang was hired to be their intermediary in Denver. Other groups fulfilled that function in other attempts, all of them thwarted by the Autobots and N.E.S.T.

They were supposed to meet High Flyer and no, they had no idea who he was. He just funneled money to causes and individuals both inside and outside of government to get the leverage they all wanted to influence public opinion. Undermining the Autobots in the mind of the public was task number one.

Task number two was capturing the Autobots Springer and Arcee to bind Intel-Martin and Nast to High Flyer once-and-for-all. High Flyer wanted to use Intel-Martin as a platform for their power climb and Nast was a willing accomplice.

Springer who was sitting in the corner listening stifled the urge to punch the human in the face. They were talking about him, his life and fraggin' autonomy. No one had introduced anyone so Jaspers didn't know who he was. He listened as the human told what Intel-Martin had planned to do.

"Did High Flyer tell ya why he wanted to capture these two particular Autobots?" Jazz asked.

Jaspers shook his head. "No. I got the idea that it was personal. I don't know half of what Nast said to High Flyer. I just know that Nast found it amusing to talk to High Flyer about the two."

"He talked to High Flyer?" Jazz asked.

Jasper nodded. "Nast told me that he had a funny voice but that the dude was using some sort of scrambler to make sure no one could identify him. Flyer was paranoid. But then I suppose I would be if I was doing direct business with the Decepticons."

It was silent a moment, then Optimus leaned forward. "You are on vacation. Your office and family will be notified. As of now you are a guest of the Autobot Embassy."

Jaspers looked at Prime, swallowing hard. "Are you going to kill me?" he asked as his voice quavered from barely contained fright.

Prime looked at him a moment then shook his head slightly. "How many people have asked you that, Mr. Jaspers? Think about it and you may have your own answer already." He glanced at Springer. "Could you replace Mr. Jaspers and bring Nast, Springer?"

Jaspers jolted then turned around to look at the green and yellow mech rising up from a corner chair. "Springer?" he stuttered as he glanced frantically between Springer and Prime.

"The one and only, all day long," Springer said reaching out to grasp Jaspers in his servo. He held him up, scrutinizing Jasper a moment, then smiled slightly. "Don't worry, Mr. Jaspers. It won't hurt. Much," he said as he walked out the door holding Jaspers in his servo like he was an old rag.

"You really enjoy that don't you," Jazz asked glancing at Prime who looked at him sheepishly. "It never gets old does it?"

Prime grinned slightly. "No, it does not."

=0=Ratchet

He sat daydreaming as the day droned on. Ironhide and the others were interrogating the fraggers that were the cause of not only most of their own misery but of misery around the world. It was easier to pass the time trotting down memory lane than thinking about work now that the younglings were fed and resting. Where was he? Ah yes. Their 'courtship'. He grinned.

"Ratchet?"

Ironhide looked at Ratchet who was standing on the steps, looking up at the hotel where they were going for his 'audition'.

Ratchet looked at him with a gimlet eye though it would be vorns and eons and oceans of time before Ironhide would know that was what that was.

"Ironhide ... what is this place?"

"It's a hotel," Ironhide said glancing at Ratchet quizzically.

"For pleasure drones and sleaze bags," he said. He frowned, resting his servos on his hips as he scrutinized the mechs coming and going. "Rent by the breem?" The sign was discreet but visible.

"Well," Ironhide said glancing up at the facade. "It was recommended."

"By who? A pleasure drone?" Ratchet said, his frown deepening.

"It won't be forever, Ratchet. Just until the ..." He grinned. "The audition is over."

"Pretty seedy stage, Ironhide," Ratchet said reluctantly following Ironhide inside.

It was equally miserable inside as Ironhide got the key then led Ratchet or rather dragged Ratchet by the servo down the hallway to an end room. Sliding the key in the sensor lock it clicked then Ironhide dragged Ratchet inside. The light came on with their arrival and the room presented itself. There was an over sized berth and nothing else.

Nothing.

Ratchet shook his helm as he turned to Ironhide who was looking around rather sheepishly. "You really know how to treat a mech."

"You wanna go some place else?" Ironhide asked looking wan.

"No, Ironhide, I wanna frag."

Ironhide grinned as he gripped Ratchet by the waist to pull him against his own chassis. "Why didn't you fraggin' say so, you slaggin' yellow aft?"

Ratchet smirked as he slipped his arms around Ironhide's broad shoulders for the first time ever.

Sober.

"Shut up and show me what you got."

And he did, Ratchet thought as he pushed a button on the panel. Sitting back he considered that it was a good thing that there wasn't anything else in the room but the berth ...

He lay half off the berth when he came online again. Reaching around, he decided he was alone. Sitting up groggily to look around with dimmed optics he found Ironhide offline on the floor. "Slagger," Ratchet said grinning at the big doofus. "Too much mech for your shiny aft I can see."

After a small unaccounted amount of time Ironhide's optics fritzed online and he sat up slowly. Glancing around, he looked up to catch the bemused expression of his soon-to-be Only One. "You're one slaggin' good old mech. Bond with me."

Ratchet laughed as looked at him fondly. "You're a romantic old fragger, I'll hand you that."

"And you're the best looking old slagger on Cybertron."

Ratchet smiled at him knowing he meant it.

Then he nodded.

And they did.

As he sat in his chair pushing buttons on a planet that wasn't his, carrying a sparkling that would be, he thanked Primus for a good natured broad shouldered mech like Ironhide to help him take care of it because he sure as slag wasn't going to do it all by himself. He might be a slave to the awesomeness that was Ironhide but he wasn't anyone's fool.

:Ratchet:

:What?:

:Just checkin':

:We're fine. How are you?:

:Getting' there:

:Good:

:Ratchet?:

:What?:

:Just checkin':

The warmth that surged over the bond was met and exceeded by that which reached Ironhide in the conference room. To his credit he didn't smile.

reward. Ratchet didn't put out on the first date. What was there to do on the second one if you did, he thought with a chuckle as they swayed and sashayed their way out into the dark night of Iacon.

Ironhide who was seduced by Ratchet from first glance gripped him around the waist as they both walked down the empty street. Behind them the sound of laughter, chatter and music faded. They were both drunk and feeling no pain while the idea of making it to the Citadel where both were stationed on peds alone looked at this point daunting.

Ironhide paused on the sidewalk to look this way and that for transport. There was none. He looked at Ratchet who was swaying as he grinned at him. "You look beautiful."

"You're pretty cute yourself," Ratchet managed before they launched themselves at each other. Staggering backward into an alley necking furiously, they fell to the ground rolling repeatedly to slam into the building wall. Then they gave in to drink and fell into a stuperous recharge.

The next day the sound of garbage collection drones woke them up so they walked to the Citadel to start a new day. It would be a longer chase this time but in the end they would both give in.

Ratchet's way.

-0-Sideswipe and Bluestreak

They sat together in the lounge off the Rec Room, peds up on the table before them as Bluestreak snuggled against Sideswipe's chassis. "Sunstreaker is aware you're with me." He grinned as he pulled Blue closer.

"You and your bond," Bluestreak said looking up at Sideswipe. "Tell him hi for me."

Sideswipe paused a moment to do so, then chuckled. "You don't want to hear what he replied."

Blue grinned as he snuggled closer, watching the mechs in the Rec Room beyond playing cards, chatting and laughing. It felt like home.

-0-Ironhide v Ratchet

"You're kidding."

Ratchet could remember the exact words and expression on Ironhide's face as he laid down his terms as well as the wrench he’d used to tighten the last bolt on Ironhide's knee assembly.

"Nope."

Ironhide looked at Ratchet, considering the challenge in his optics, the smirk on his face and the incredible attraction of his yellow aft. "You're on."

"You're finished," Ratchet said glancing over his shoulder. " **NEXT FOOL**!"

Ironhide hopped down, skirting Ratchet and as the medico turned back to the berth to clean up. Ironhide gave him a sound slap on his yellow aft.

Ratchet turned toward the big goof then shook his head. He held up the tools in his hand. "You'll have to do better than that," Ratchet said. "You aren't the only mech out there."

Ironhide knowing the truth of that smirked. "But **I'm** the one who’s going to land you, ya big yellow aft."

"Don't try and sweet talk me, Ironhide," Ratchet said laughing loudly.

"Tonight. I'll come and get ya," Ironhide said as he walked to the door with an excess of satisfaction in his step.

Ratchet watched him go then smiled. Tonight was going to be fun.

Ironhide clearing the door casually hurried to the medical library annex down the corridor then pulled a cable out of his wrist. Plugging in, he searched the database and pulled up relevant files, books, treatises and entertainment videos as he brushed up on his technique for the evening.

/… audition for ya, ya slagger … **I** don't have to audition … when I 'face someone they **stay** 'faced … frag, **that's** a good one …/

He downloaded that one and several others, then headed for the mech's club down the street to get a wash, a wax and a detailing for the only mech he would ever demean himself enough to woo to this degree of humiliation.

Ratchet the awesome, he thought. Ratchet the one who by Primus was going to be his. For Ratchet the Beautiful, Ironhide would suffer.

-0-Bluestreak and Sideswipe

They sat on the couch necking, talking quietly and enjoying the company of the other. Winding down with someone was a good thing, Sideswipe thought with smirk. :… Right, Sunny? …:

: **F** **RAG YOU, SIDESWIPE** **! I’** **LL KICK YOUR AFT! I’LL TEAR YOUR** **AFT OFF** **AND SHOVE IT DOWN YOUR THROAT!** :

That was when Sideswipe tamped down the twin bond, preferring to give all the attention he had to Bluestreak and his amazing lips.

-0-Ratchet and Ironhide

He stood in the doorway of the hospital, shined, spiffed and ready to rumble. Ironhide arrived at about the same time as shiny as a new penny himself. They admired their reflection in the others chassis, having a good joke about how slippery it was going to be shortly. Then they walked off together on the first day of the great adventure that was going to be Ratchet v Ironhide in The Bosom of Love™.

-0-Lounge

A rap on the wall interrupted their moment. They looked up, then straightened up quickly. Prowl who was standing in the doorway with a severe expression on his face shook his head. "No intimacy for three decaorns."

Bluestreak nodded, glancing at a shame-faced Sideswipe.

Prowl turned to go, then paused by the door with a smirk. "You might thank Sunstreaker for me knowing about you two." Then he left with a soft chuckle trailing behind.

Bluestreak who smiled in spite of himself looked at Sideswipe who had an expression of intense surprise on his face.

Sideswipe looked distant as he opened up the twin bond again. : **S** **UNSTREAKER** **!** **YOU FRAGGER**!:

A voice trailed over Sideswipe’s outrage: “What’s that, Sideswipe? I can’t hear you.”

Bluestreak sat back, anticipating the entertainment value of their endless moments some day soon when he’d be able to hear it, too.

-0-Prime

He walked into the conference room then set Jaspers on the table, one of the soldier's chairs catching him as he shrank back. Prime, Ironhide, Jazz, Prowl and Springer were facing him. Springer came in from Autobot City just for the paybacks of the interrogation. They stared down at the human, himself almost insignificant in comparison.

"Mr. Jaspers, I want to know what you know. And I need you to make sure you do not leave out a thing," Optimus said.

Jaspers stared at Prime, his mind in a jumble, then he decided to throw himself on the mercy of the truth. He sat back, gathered his thoughts and began to spill his guts, Nast be damned.

By the time he was finished, it was clear that Nast probably would be.

Chapter 91

  
  


-0-The Conference Room, Diego Garcia

They waited quietly, conversation light or non-existent. Prime who was sitting back in his chair with a datapad in his hand didn't look up when Springer returned carrying Nast in the same manner as he’d carried Jaspers. Setting him down none too gently on the table, all optics turned toward the human who sat in shock for a moment before rising to back away as he looked around frantically for escape.

There was none.

"Take a seat, Nast," Prowl said leaning forward on his elbows, his wings flicking in tension. "Now."

Prowl's soft demand, his cool optics and imposing form leaning into Nast's face shook the human out of his torpor. He moved swiftly to sit on the chair.

Prime who was 'fascinated' with his datapad didn't watch, preferring whatever braggadocio Nast brought with him to bleed out under the capable ice cold optics of Prowl.

For a moment it was silent as both sides regarded each other without comment. Then Jazz leaned in to peer at Nast closely. "You should talk to us and tell us everything without leaving out any details, Mr. Nast. Jaspers already told us enough to have you shot for treason by the Americans."

" **I'm** an American and **you** can't hold me or treat me like this," Nast said defiantly even as his voice quavered slightly.

"You made me laugh just a little, Mr. Nast. There isn't anything in your law or Constitution that protects you from laws of other nations or sovereign groups. You aren't on American soil. You're in the Autobot Embassy and therefore you only have rights only if we say you do."

He looked at Jazz in disbelief as fear formed on his face. He struggled with the idea that no amount of talk, money or bullshitting was going to get him out of the mess he was in. How could he reach a machine?

"You need to tell us about High Flyer," Jazz continued.

"High Flyer?" Nast asked repeating Jazz in his muddled condition.

Jazz nodded.

Nast sat a moment in an emotional muddle, then with effort gathered himself. He looked at Jazz defiantly. "And if I don't tell you about him or anything or anyone else? What then?"

Prime lowered his datapad to regard Nast levelly. "Then I would be obliged to give you to Springer. Apparently, you find it impossible to believe that we can care about your fear and predicament. You might force me hand on the issue and end our problem with you becoming Springer's punching bag."

Nast startled at the sound of the name. He glanced around, finally spying the green and yellow mech sitting against the wall.

Springer with a humorless smile on his face waved his hand.

Nast shrank back in his chair, turning forward again to look at Prime nervously. "If I tell you what I know what will I get in return?"

It was silent a moment, then Prime leaned slightly forward. "I'll tell my 'bond mate' not to step on you when he takes you back to the brig."

Nast looked back at Springer who was grinning slightly. Then he looked at Prime. "I thought you were supposed to be some kind of upright good guy."

Prime grinned slightly. "You have endangered my family and my people. What would you do in my place?"

Nast stared at him trying to reconcile the commentary of High Flyer, the news cycle and eyewitnesses to the figure before him. He didn't know what to think but he knew that the green and yellow mech sitting quietly against the wall, his blue-eyed gaze never leaving him was no one to fool with. He leaned back in his chair trying to relax even though he had never been more scared in his life. "What do you want to know?"

Jazz smiled.

-0-Sunstreaker

He sat at his duty station on the command deck of Autobot City's Ops Center silently fuming. When they had finished with the refugees, Sideswipe had gone back with Prime to Earth and he was left here to assist in the repatriation of the newcomers. It annoyed him at first although off duty drag races on the plateau were living up to everything he thought they’d be when he’d first come here.

Yet, being here left Sideswipe a clear field with Bluestreak and he could tell when there was something going on when the twin bond was tamped down. He thought about Sideswipe being intimate with Blue, putting their tenuous relationship with Prowl on the line and he was pissed.

He was aware that Sides had gone on a mission and though the jealousy of Sideswipe being in action without him along bothered Sunstreaker, the relaxation afterward with Blue was worse. He’d even teased Sunstreaker about it. Of course, Sunstreaker had gotten even ...

: **SIDESWIPE!** :

The dampened bond only echoed back to him driving him further into a spiral of anger than if he could’ve seen and felt what the two were doing. Rolling in a tight circle of impotent rage he paused with a grin.

:Sunstreaker to Prowl:

[A pause, then an answer]

:Prowl here. Sunstreaker?:

:Affirmative. I just wanted you to know that my slaggin' brother is probably putting moves on Bluestreak right now:

[Another pause]

:Really:

:He is. I can feel it. You better go save Bluestreak. We all know what a slagger my brother is:

[A longer pause. The impression of a chuckle] :I will. Prowl out:

Sunstreaker left the door open to Sideswipe as he waited. Then it was back, the intimate connection that the two shared whether they wanted it or not. : **SUNSTREAKER**! **YOU FRAGGER**!:

It was all good, Sunstreaker thought, the music of his brother's incoherent rage filtering through him as he made his way to the firing range. :Are you talking to me, Sideswipe? I can't hear you:

The invective grew even louder.

Sunstreaker smiled bigger, a scary prospect to everyone who had to pass him as he want on his way.

-0-Conference Room, Autobot HQ, Diego Garcia

Nast looked at Jazz coolly, finally collecting his composure. "High Flyer? He's a client. Someone who posts on the in-house listserv."

"How did he get on? It's private and closed," Jazz asked.

"I don't know. I don't concern myself with trivial in-house items like that," Nast said folding his arms in front of him as he regarded Jazz with something of his normal arrogance.

"You spoke with High Flyer," Jazz said, "several times. Tell us about that. Who contacted who and what transpired?"

Nast shrugged. "He contacted me on my office phone which is private and heavily encrypted. It was a neat piece of hacking but then he has the money and interest. I'm sure he has the best experts possible working for him."

"Content. Tell us about the content of your calls especially requests, partnership ideas and the like," Jazz persisted.

"He wanted to help me get what I'm paying lobbyists millions for, weapons that you have so that I reverse engineer, make and sell."

"Our treaties forbid us from doing so," Prime said. His own blue optics cast a formidable glare at Nast who leaned back but didn't bow.

"Your treaties don't work here," Nast countered.

Prime leaned forward impaling Nast with his gaze. "Our treaties work **everywhere.** " Prime leaned back.

"Continue," Jazz said, his own disgust evident.

Nast shrugged. "We made arrangements to get weapons because he said he had a pipeline into the Decepticons. I didn't believe him but came around when he sent me pictures of their weapons, real pictures taken of them. I believed him and made arrangements which you and your group interrupted each time."

Jazz nodded, smiling humorously. "Slaggin' right. Tell us about High Flyer."

Nast considered that. "He's strange-sounding and a freak about secrecy. He has the right ideas though. He wants Earth for humans and all of you machines out. He's supported the right candidates and has a lot of investments in media and other businesses. He wants what he wants. And I'm not in disagreement with him."

"What does he want?" Prowl asked quietly.

"World domination. The usual," Nast said. He grinned at the thought of it. "With me at his side, control of the world, its resources and population, the usual thing. The right application of fear, money and rhetoric in the right places by the right people at the right time, maybe aided with an event here and there and it can be done. People are sheep. They'll even follow you when you take their last dime or their last loaf of bread. High Flyer knows that."

"He does, does he," Jazz said quietly.

Nast stared at Jazz, curiosity warring with the studied indifference on his face. "He's my kind of guy. The politics are bullshit but the end goal isn't."

Jazz nodded. "You really are a fragger aren't you, Mr. Nast.

He sat comfortably on his chair with a smirk on his face. "If you say so, robot."

-0-Elsewhere

Bluestreak carried the youngling in his arms to the water's edge and set him down. The others following slowly, fearfully paused just short of the incomprehensible immensity of water the ocean constituted before them.

T-Bar held onto Bluestreak tightly as he looked down at his little peds. He watched as the tide lapping lazily against them. It felt really good so he loosened his hold slightly, smiling up at Bluestreak as he did. Looking over his shoulder, he saw his brothers and Silverbow in a huddle with Hound, Sideswipe and Trailbreaker standing around them protectively.

T-Bar slipped his arm free and allowed Bluestreak to hold his waist as he looked at the water. Reaching down, he touched it with his servo. The warmth of it was surprising to him. Stepped forward, he felt his peds sinking into the sand as the water came in and out around them, the gentle waves carrying away and bringing sand with it each time. He chuckled, a soft sound to the adults who looked at him with delighted surprise.

Rambler dropped Spirit's servo then walked to where T-Bar was standing looking down at his peds to marvel at the sight. He bent down to touch the water looking up at Bluestreak with a smile. Hound who picked up Silverbow walked toward the three to kneel when he reached the water.

Silverbow sat on Hound's knee her, little yellow cup clutched in her hands as she looked at the sea with wonderment. She looked up at Hound who gently set her down on her peds in the water.

Staring at it for a moment, she bent down to put her cup into the water, filling and tipping it so that it ran out. Smiling, she looked up at Hound and Trailbreaker, then chirped. She asked them 'what?', pointing to the water as she did. They looked at her with shock and intense love in their optics. Her delight was theirs as they explained.

As they did, Sideswipe pulled out a pail and some over sized spoons he’d gotten from the N.E.S.T. commissary from his carry hold and set them down in the sand. Spirit who was clinging to his leg let go, then walked to them to pick a spoon. The little mech stared up at him unaware of what came next.

Sideswipe sat down at the water’s edge and picked up a spoon. He began filling a bucket with sand. Spirit who watched him sat down, too, and began to help.

They would play together filling and emptying the bucket with water and sand until it was time to step back into the treeline. The adults would transform and the younglings would sit inside for the forty-five minute window that the low level satellites overhead would take before being out of range to photograph them. Then they would return to the sand and water to play quietly until dinner.

Chapter 92

  
  


-0-Conference Room, Diego Garcia, Autobot HQ

"You’d criticize me? I **live** here. This is **my** planet. You don't belong here. If anyone’s a freak its you."

The already cool temperature dropped considerably as Prowl leaned toward Nast. "Freak like us? **You** conduct business with anonymous billionaires, **you** kill your own civilians for money, **you** betray **your** country and **you** call **us** freaks?"

The softness of Prowl's voice did nothing to soften the blow of the words and as he sat back the impact was not lost on Nast. But he had nothing so he pressed on. "Prove it."

Jazz and Prowl glanced at Prime who nodded, his expression unchanged by the conversation. They rose to walk to the computer console nearby, then flipped on screens, pulling data up as they showed without any doubt whatsoever that Nast and Intel-Martin were not only dealing with Decepticons but had sold a 17% share of the company to the 'elusive billionaire ideologue'.

Holding the last card, the identity of the 'elusive billionaire ideologue' himself, they watched him hoping he would crack. Nast staring at the data, hearing his own voice on phone calls, reading his own emails and watching film of himself at locations where things were decided wrestled with his mind to keep his expression straight and unconcerned. But the icy fingers of fear gripped him and he knew he was done without a deal.

-0-The Cheerful Femmes™ of the United States Armed Forces

They got onto their bulletin board the day they’d put the Christmas tree up for the little kids, beginning their networking with their sisters at bases around the world.

_To: Lissie, Space and Naval Warfare Systems Center, San Diego_

_From: Jessie Landon, Diego Garcia_

_Hey, Lissie. We have a favor to ask. Could you find the following items and get them shipped via Air Force to us before Christmas Day? We have children who won't have a Christmas without your help. :)_

_A pink bear_

_Silver ribbon_

_Three brown bears_

_All of the bears have to be enormous. At least four feet tall._

_Footballs, round balls, blocks that are sort of biggish, not the little bitty ones. We have a couple of airmen making some but we’d like some that are made with letters and/or maybe pictures. Wooden toys are cool, too. Trucks and airplane toys would be AMAZING!_

_Maybe even a really big soft huggy dolly._

_Pop-up books_

_Fuzzy slippers, maybe adult size. Big._

_Anything else that would entertain or comfort a child._

_You’re the best. Tell everyone in San Diego Jessie says hi._

_Jessie, Diego Garcia, British Indian Ocean_

-0-Lissie read the email and figured it out. Then she opened an email form to a friend in Germany...

_To: Sherese, Ramstein Air Base_

_From: Lissie, San Diego_

**_HI!_ ** _We got an emergency need to fill. If we get some toys together can we ship them to you and get a fast track to Diego Garcia before Christmas? Jessie has kids. You know. ;) This is_ _**so** _ _awesome. Let me know, Sherese._

_X0, Lissie_

-0-Ramstein Air Base

Sherese read the email with a smile, then turned to the three women and two men in her administrative unit. "Boys and girls, we have a priority one Santa emergency going down in Diego Garcia."

They read the email with amusement and excitement. "Better hump it then," Airman Samantha Purvis said.

They nodded in agreement, then jumped on the internet as Sherese copied the email left to go the airfield commandant to ask a favor.

The network lit up the world as people responded, putting things together until a package was finalized at Andrews Air Base in Maryland. Overnight, the different components were flown in and packed carefully into a large wooden crate after being wrapped. Placed with them were dozens of cards filled with pictures and good wishes from the twenty-seven people who had a hand in making the gift possible. The package was then strapped down on a transport plane to begin the circuitous route to Diego Garcia as the plane made its stops along the way. By the time it set down, the night would be passing and the designation 'Christmas Day' would be falling over the hushed sleepy isle of Diego Garcia.

-0-Conference Room, Autobot HQ, Diego Garcia, at the same time

Nast sat in his chair struggling to appear unconcerned but he’d been shown enough to know that he had no outs, no leeway, nothing. If they turned him into the authorities he was never going to see daylight again. He’d probably get a firing squad because of the numerous counts of treason that he so clearly committed. Even the idea of prison made him ill.

Prime watched him following the stages of his 'grief' with a practice made of eons of similar moments of revelation. He’d seen this before, deluded criminals thinking they could make alliances with the Decepticons and finding out that there was no partnership, there never would be and there never could be. The only Cybertronians who ever entered into alliances and kept them were the Autobots.

"So you know," he finally said. "What do you want me to do about it and what's in it for me?"

Prime laying aside his datapad at last, leaned forward, clasping his servos together. "Well, Mr. Nast, we are very glad that you asked..."

-0-Later that afternoon

They walked out of the conference room, Springer heading toward the brig with his latest human rag doll in servo. He walked to the brig, Inferno let him in, then he set the human down with only less indifference than before. As he turned to go, Nast hollered up at him.

Springer paused, all twenty-five feet of yellow and green mech giving off an effortless menace. He looked down at the human, his gaze filled with checked malice. "What?"

Nast walked to the bars to ask in spite of himself. "Are you really bonded with Prime?"

Springer looked at Nast, turning his head to one side as he peered down. Then he knelt bringing himself even closer to Nast. "Why?"

Nast considered him. "High Flyer wants to sell you to me. I want to know why he hates you."

Springer considered a number of answers he could give, turning them over and over in his helm. Then he settled on the one he gave because he was a **FRAGGIN' WRECKER!**

**WRECK 'N Rule!**

"Maybe its because he's not getting any and I am."

With that, he rose to his full height, shot a withering gaze at all four, then walking out with a nod to Inferno on the way.

Inferno grinned slightly as he looked at them with a sad shake of his head. "Never frag with a Wrecker, dumb afts. Never."

They stared at him without a clue.

-0-Conference Room, Diego Garcia

They sat together, Springer joining them as they worked out a snare for Starscream. The intention was to catch him and haul his sorry ass to Diego Garcia. If they could take down Starscream the list of potential leaders with Megatron gone or missing was negligible. Even if it probably wouldn't end the war it might mean a respite and every day they weren't fighting was a day Autobot City could add one more piece to its mosaic. It would mean one more day for refugees to come, to hear Prime's call to find refuge, respite and home. They worked long into the afternoon working out the bits and pieces that would drop the net on enemy number one. Hopefully, they thought. \

Hopefully.

-0-Later that night

Ironhide sneaked in, removing his cannons and other general mayhem then crept to the berth. His sensors had scanned the room and all its contents including a reclining Ratchet. He knew that the medico wasn't recharging. He sat then patted Ratchet's thigh. "Waiting up?"

"Sure," Ratchet said tugging on Ironhide to recline. He did. Ratchet turned toward him tossing a leg and arm over his body. "Got the goods on the jackasses?"

"Yep," Ironhide said pulling Ratchet against his chassis. "How's the sparkling?"

"Exuberant."

"Hurt much?"

"Only when I smile."

[Grin] "You've been watching those soap opera things again."

"As The Kitchen Sinks?" Ratchet replied. "Sort of a slow day."

"Those are the good days," Ironhide said rubbing Ratchet's back with his servo.

"The femmes at N.E.S.T. have something going on for tomorrow. They want us in the youngling’s play room for a Christmas thing."

"What kind of Christmas thing?" Ironhide asked. "They **do** know we aren't from around these parts?"

Ratchet chuckled. "I think so."

It was silent a moment.

"I think they like the younglings."

"What's not to like?" Ironhide agreed.

"Silverbow actually talked today," Ratchet said. "She's so cute."

"What did she say?" Ironhide asked.

"What."

"What?"

"She said 'what'."

"That's what I'm asking. What did she say?"

Ratchet paused a moment to consider that he’d heard this kind of thing before. Then it came to him, a TNT movie special on comedians that included this skit by Abbott and Costello, famous old time Vaudevillian comedians who had a baseball routine. Grinning rather wolfishly, he began again. "'What'."

"What? Ratchet, have you gone off your processor? I'm asking what she said."

"'What.'"

Ironhide who was trying to figure out the angle involved in the conversation decided to cut his losses. "Well, if you're going to be an aft, I'll ask Hound. At least, I know who."

"Who? He's on first."

It was silent a moment as metaphorical steam rose out of Ironhide's audials, then Ratchet filled him in. After watching the peerless clip from the peerless comedians, Ironhide roared. Then he filed it away in the document dump entitled 'Things to do to Prime on a slow day".

  
  


[Google 'Bud Abbot and Lou Costello who's on first' and you will find out]

Chapter 93

  
  


-0-Autobot City, 2100 hours plus change if it were Earth, but since Martian days are 24 hours, 37 minutes and 22 seconds long it isn't quite

^..^ Springer

Springer walked through the hub after making his rounds. It was his habit to go to every spot in The Fortress and its outlying areas to determine for himself the situation at hand. The refugees, those who weren't in the work schedule at this hour were relaxing in lounges, in their makeshift quarters or sitting together in the hallway talking softly.

The garrison had just swung shift with the night crew coming aboard. The energon plant was working smoothly as were the smelter and refinery. They were going to be shoring up more underground tunnels with the idea of building rooms and corridors off the main shafts. These would be storerooms and housing for refugees. Once they could ascertain the long term threat to their city, they could begin to build above ground again. For now, The Fortress was the only above ground building at Autobot City. He continued onward making his way to Ops Center where he would finish his shift and turn it over to Kup when the sun rose in the sky once more.

When it was Christmas Day on Earth.

-0-Sunstreaker

He stood on the flight line the others with him as crates and other freight got priority in Cosmos' hold. He was going back to the garrison on Earth and would remain there pending a new assignment. Apparently, there was something brewing and he was glad to be included. The line shifted as they moved forward hauling their gear and weapons on their backs and shoulders.

Sunstreaker entered the vessel, then walked to the front to sit and relax. Soon he would be home again. None too soon, he considered, as he off lined his optics for the ride.

-0-Hound and Trailbreaker

They walked around the airfield, Silverbow in Trailbreaker's arms. Hound with his sensors scanning the area found no cameras or intruders. So they continued to walk around the Air Force planes explaining them to Silverbow as she chirped and whispered questions. That she was still using sparkling speech was a concern to the two of them. That she was speaking at all was a miracle.

The clock edged toward eleven at night as they took a stroll, a new family on a new planet moving toward a new day.

-0-Bluestreak

He sat on the beach leaning into Sideswipe as they watched the stars overhead. Somewhere far away was Cybertron. Somewhere far away lay the unburied bodies of most of his city's inhabitants covered with dust as they slowly became the same thing. He tried not to dwell on it during the day because then it would come during recharge. Keeping the light in his life was hard enough as it was sometimes.

He’d be bonded soon to Sideswipe and Sunstreaker. The walls would fall and he would have no defenses to them knowing things about him that he couldn't even look at himself half the time. They would know about his loss, about the intense abiding care Prowl gave to him, about his dreams about peace some day and a family.

The war couldn't go on forever. Some day, they would live at Autobot City and do other things. Sunstreaker could be an artist again. He and Sideswipe would find out what their talents truly were besides fighting and shooting. That would be a great day. They would have sparklings of their own, a family they could protect and raise just like Prowl did for him.

It could have been so different. He could have been left by Prowl at an orphan station. But he wasn't. Now he was here, a full-grown mech on the edge of something wonderful and he felt a lightness in his spark that was a rarity. Looking up at Sideswipe who was looking at the moon above them, Bluestreak had that talk with him at last.

-0-Ironhide and Ratchet

They lay in recharge spooned together, their arms around each other. All the years of war and the endless emotional traumas they shared were washed away in their repose. Their sparkling, himself falling into whatever recharge a sparkling had was still and restful.

The clock moved toward 11:15 pm. Earth time. Home time.

-0-Prowl

He gathered the toys that lay scattered on the floor putting them into the little box that sat in a corner of the room. The little mechs were sleeping on their shared bed in a room that was annexed to their own quarters. It was small, the doorway new and the bed wide enough for three. Tucked under a blanket, they were sound asleep dreaming whatever little mechs dreamed about when they recharged.

Prime stood over them watching and memorizing their little faces. He loved and wanted them, almost feeling fate behind the having of them. As he watched their safe repose, he was thinking ahead, planning and rededicating himself to the effort of providing them a safe long-term home. There were others, too, who were lost, faraway and coming to his call. He saw them every time he laid his eyes on the little mechs. They would need his best effort, too.

Prowl came behind him slipping his arms around Optimus. "They're wonderful," he whispered.

"They are," Optimus said. "We have to get them all, Prowl. No one must be lost anymore. None of them."

Prowl nodded, then tugged at Prime pulling him into his arms as they stood together watching the future of their people sleeping on the berth.

It was close to 11:30 pm

-0-At the N.E.S.T. HQ

The femme soldiers and their Air Force accomplice stood in the office, the crate they had worked for sitting outside on the pavement. They were sending off acknowledgments to everyone who had assisted them thanking them for helping to change a moment that was memorable into something entrancing.

After processing it, they walked outside with a crowbar to pry open the lid. Staring inside, crying in delight, they began to pull things out.

-0-At the flight line at Autobot HQ, Diego Garcia

Cosmos set down disgorging his manifest before transforming to walk to the site where all the Aerialbots were recharging. He walked past the femmes all of whom called out and waved. Pausing to chat for a moment, he continued onward after wishing Merry Christmas back. He would have to find out what that meant when he was less tired, he thought. Right now, recharge and the company of his fellow aerialists called him on.

-0-Rec Room

They sat here and there, some of them talking, some playing games. The night was late and they were either coming off a shift or waiting until the last moment to go on one. They sat and drank energon, whiling away the night. The Rec Room had dimmed lights and the effect was intriguing to all the groups who watched from the outside, their curiosity not dampened by the fall of night.

Around the base, Autobot soldiers were patrolling, doing their part to keep things safe. They would roll or walk past the different areas, through the little town, past some places with ships and others with buildings, a terrifying sight to some and a godsend to others. They would make several rounds per shift including showing themselves to the barracks where the mercs and their master lived.

-0-Sunstreaker

He entered the hangar rolling to his quarters to find them empty. Seeking his brother he rolled out again to head for the beach. Jumping the fence easily, he continued down the beach stopping before the pair as they sat together. Sunstreaker giving his brother a disgusted look knelt to pull Bluestreak in for a kiss.

Blue kissed him back then sat back against Sideswipe once more. Patting the sand he smiled. "Sit down, Sunny. We have a few things to consider."

Sunstreaker who glanced from Sideswipe's smirking face to Blue's beautiful smile sat.

Hesitantly.

-0-Lennox

He stood on the deck of his house with beer in hand and his eyes on the sky. Behind him, light spilled out of his house as his family came together to open presents on Christmas Eve here on the farm in California, an old cherished family tradition. The sky was velvety black and the stars twinkled. Somewhere among them was a forlorn world, a world that destroyed by its own people. He couldn't imagine the life they’d led, the suffering and deprivation, the loss and the hopes dashed. He loved them, all of them and was glad in a way his family would never know even a small part of their life.

The Autobots would have a home, he thought. The children coming and the ones here, they would have a place that was theirs, that they belonged to in a real way. His daughter had this place. Their young and babies, elders and other civilians would have it, too. Will raised his bottle and sighed. "Merry Christmas, Optimus. Merry Christmas, Autobot garrison." He took a sip, then walked back into the house once more.

In the distance the sound of fireworks could be heard as someone somewhere lit up the night telling in their own way to anyone who heard Merry Christmas to all.

It was midnight in California. It was Christmas Day.

-0-London, England

Niall Graham and his wife walked from the theater after a long anticipated play down to a pub in the Theater District. Walking inside, the noise and people almost overwhelming after the quiet of Diego Garcia, they found seats in a snug and ordered. All around them people celebrated, singing and laughing, making the world alive with their enthusiasm. He sat back clicking his beer glass with his wife's and took a long sip. As he did he wondered how the Autobots were doing and if they had holidays themselves. He would have to ask when he got back in January. Until then, he turned to his wife and enjoyed himself.

-0-Epps

The children were in bed and he was helping wash the dishes. Chatting with his wife, he felt at peace. Of course, the others could never know that he did dishes. His mother and grandmother taught him to respect work no matter what it was so he had few sexist ideas around his house. His wife was a stand up woman. She made sure he didn't either.

The dogs were roaming around their feet, the evening was quiet and they were catching up. It was perfect and it was home. Even as he felt the comfort of it, the rightness of it he couldn't help but wonder what the Autobots were doing.

The next day, they would drive down to the Lennox place to share a day of barbecue and relaxation. Maybe they could call and check in he thought as he took glasses out of the rinse water. That might be the thing to do.

-0-Nast and Company

They sat in their cells, blankets and food provided. They didn't speak to each other, the anger and hatred between them enough to power a small town if it could be converted to energy. They had no idea when they’d be let out or if they’d be dumped into the ocean, turned into the feds or ripped limb from limb. They just knew they were stuck. They’d forgotten even the day in their self centered angst.

The Autobots in charge of the brig seemed chosen for their smart ass stubbornness, Nast thought as he glared at Inferno sitting at his post talking in their weird language with the other one, Red Alert. **There** was a robot that looked like he was going to throw a spring. He stared at them, then continued his pacing once more. Christmas arrived but he wouldn't know. And in light of things, he wouldn't care.

-0-Starscream

He looked at the emails, the two that he’d sent that were replied by Nast and one from him stating that he was going to spend four days out of contact due to Christmas. Starscream pondered that, the idea of Christmas. He hated sentimentality and the idea of a god that could come to save you. You saved yourself because no one else came out of the ether to help you. Given their experiences and the lack of intervention by the Pantheon, he was in an ill mood about his people's spirituality at the moment. Then he paused to consider that. Maybe there **were** gods. After all, Megatron had disappeared.

Primus **must** exist.

He smiled a humorless smile, then sat on the hillock to stare at the stars overhead unaware that on Earth it was Christmas. Equally oblivious but watching with concern, Thundercracker, Skywarp followed by Dirge and Thrust watched their leader as he brooded.

  
  


Chapter 94

  
  


-0-Epps

His family sat in the car singing as they drove southward. They were on their way to the Lennox farm and the kids were singing Christmas songs. His wife sang, too, but he tried not to. He sort of had a 'key' problem. His dogs were singing as well adding their 'barkatones' to the mix when the right note was sung. He drove along the coast highway smiling and adding his own two cents when he could.

-0-Lennox

He came down the stairs, his dog beside him as he walked with his daughter into the kitchen. They were getting ready for friends and family including the Epps' who were on their way. Even though they worked together all the time they were fast friends as well. Their families were close and did things together on the time off that they had. N.E.S.T. was a tough mistress but the families were dedicated and close.

-0-Diego Garcia

The routine began as it always did. Shifts changed and mechs went to recharge, re-energize and relax. The Three R's as the soldiers called it. Optimus Prime walked to the Rec Room with T-Bar in his arms. Rambler hopped and skipped ahead of him as Prowl brought up the rear with Spirit curled against his chassis.

The mechs who saw the kids smiled, talked to and teased them ... it warmed Prime's spark. They needed this, he thought. The five remaining orphans needed help, too, so he found himself looking around considering his mechs both here and at Autobot City for suitable guardians.

They sat at a table joined by Hound, Trailblazer and a smiling, more outgoing Silverbow. Energon and conversation among friends of long standing started the day at Autobot HQ. They would go about their business and at noon their time they would gather in the younglings' playroom for the soldier and air force femmes who asked them to go there for a 'Christmas Surprise'.

Unknown to Prowl, Prime had scanned the internet finding nothing to hint at what it could be. Prowl had done the same thing unbeknownst to Prime. With their usual good humor, the two sat together enjoying the morning in the midst of their comrades waiting for noon.

Nervously.

-0-Ratchet and Ironhide

They rousted themselves then walked to the Rec Room to sit with Prime and his family. Silverbow remembering Ratchet looked at him with unblinking optics. Ratchet smiled and she smiled back. Then she gathered her nerve, sliding off Hound's lap with her yellow cup in hand. She walked around the table looking at Ratchet shyly as she did.

Ratchet reached out to pick her up, settling her on his lap. She leaned back and pointed at Hound. Smiling up at Ratchet, she clicked the sparkling designation for father.

Hound looked at her with an almost savage love.

Then she pointed at Trailbreaker and said the same thing. The big mech smiled at her with surprise and delight. How was it possible, he thought, to love someone so much?

Ratchet grinned at Ironhide who looked at Silverbow like she was made of platinum. "Good practice," Ratchet said bouncing the youngling on his knee.

-0-Brig

The day was just another one for the four prisoners. They had no idea what was going on anywhere else. They just had four walls, the guards and each other. In other words, it was hell. Dinner would be better than other days, all of the food sent over by the mess halls on base as per the orders of John Fulton. They would get the Christmas dinner all the soldiers got and it would be good.

They wouldn't care a bit.

-0-Ironhide and Ratchet

They walked to Med Bay buoyed by the great morning.

Ironhide glanced at Ratchet. "Femmes are cute."

"They are."

"Makes me want to have one," Ironhide said as they rounded the door to enter Ratchet's kingdom.

Ratchet looked up at Ironhide with a smile. "And I'll be there to catch it."

Ironhide caught off guard paused mid stride. "Let me rephrase that, Ratchet."

Ratchet grinned.

-0-NOON at the Youngling's Room

Word had gotten out and a lot of mechs were already there sitting around the walls and on the floor. The far wall had been opened, the sliding doors moved back so more could attend "Christmas Surprise" for the younglings. The Christmas tree was lighted and very colorful attracting the kids right away. Once their peds hit the floor they were at the tree sitting and kneeling in front of it, looking at the bright decorations.

Prime, Prowl and Hound sat along the wall next to the tree, making room for others. Trailblazer stood along the back wall with Ratchet, Ironhide and Jazz. Mirage, the twins, Bluestreak, all of the off duty second shift and the rest were waiting, though no one had the faintest idea of what to expect.

A beeping sound was heard outside so Ratchet peered out of the door watching as a heavily laden hummer came driving up. Another one followed filled with femmes. They stopped by the door waving up at Ratchet. **"Ratchet! Merry Christmas!"**

Ratchet grinned. "Merry Christmas. What are you doing and do you need any help?" he asked.

"You could help us carry these bags and that box," they said.

Ratchet moved slightly to lean down to pick up a big bag. He gave it to Ironhide who also took the other one. Picking up a long slim box, Ratchet moved back to wait as the femmes came inside. There were seven of them now, more than the first group and they were welcomed cheerfully by the Autobots.

The younglings sitting by the tree watched them warily including Spirit himself. Silverbow rose swiftly to walk self consciously away. She stood between Trailbreaker's legs. Peering out, her yellow cup in her servos, she watched, her optics never leaving the strange new femmes.

Spirit glancing at Prime was reassured by his smile but moved closer to Rambler who was watching with unabashed interest along with T-Bar at his side.

The femmes gathered then Jessie Landon was pushed forward. She cleared her throat and smiled. "We're so happy to be here. Christmas is a holy day for some of us in our religion but it's also a children's holiday and part of that is giving gifts and toys to them.

"We thought about the little kids here, how it was Christmas everywhere and how they weren't going to get any toys. We made the tree for them, then we made some contacts outside in the world asking for assistance so that Santa Claus would be able to come to Diego Garcia and make sure that the children here weren't missed when he flew by on his sleigh."

All of the Autobots within the sound of her voice instantly accessed the internet finding Santa Claus and the children's holiday part of the season. Grinning and nodding with amusement at the imagery, they watched with deep fascination as the sweetest human femmes they’d ever met began to initiate **'Operation Christmas Surprise!'**

Jessie smiled at Prime. "Usually someone gets to be Santa Claus. We thought you'd like to do the honors because you're The Mech around here, Optimus."

Prime smirked slightly as snickers rose around the room. Then he leaned forward to the femmes missing completely the smirk on Prowl's face. "What does a Santa Claus do?"

"We'll hand you the gift and you give it to the child whose name is on it," Jessie said with a chuckle. "Simple."

Prime nodded as he sat back. He glanced at Prowl who wiped his grin off immediately. "Sounds like a good duty," Prime said as laughter and clapping filled the space.

Jessie turned to the group with a smile as one of the femmes reached into one of the two bags to pull out a pink bear. Taking it in hand, she gave it to Prime which was comical considering how big his hand was. "This is for Silverbow."

Silverbow hearing her name looked up at Trailblazer and Hound.

Trailblazer leaned down and pointed at the bear.{For you, baby} he said in their language.

She looked at him clutching her cup, then glanced at the bear, her optics wide at the sight of it. Looking up again, stepped forward hesitantly, she glanced at Hound and Trailbreaker as she came toward Prime. He held the bear out, a pink bear with a silver bow around its neck. She reached out tentatively petting its soft fur. She smiled then looked at Landon who was wiping tears at the time. Silverbow smiled then walked back to Trailbreaker without it. She stood behind him again.

It was silent a moment, then Trailbreaker leaned down. {No, baby ...} he said. {The bear is for you}

Everyone held their breath in an agony of emotion as the little femme struggled to understand. Then she did. She handed Trailbreaker her cup, then walked back to the bear hesitating uncertainly next to it. She looked at Landon, then Prime, waiting to know what to do.

Prime touched to speechlessness reached out the bear and she hesitantly took it pressing her face against its soft fur. She smiled at both of them, then Hound and Trailbreaker, then the bear. She walked to the tree and sat down pulling the bear into her lap. She held her arm against it, the pink of her green and pink paint scheme nearly the same color. She smiled again, holding it tightly as she watched everything and everyone with bright optics.

It was silent a moment and emotionally heavy as the whole group, then Landon absorbed her pain and joy. Then Jessie turned to the bags and boxes to pull out three more bears, brown ones with big red bows. Handing them to the mechs, Prime felt a happiness he hadn't felt in a long time. More presents followed, slippers for their feet with bunny faces on them, blocks, pop-up books and art supplies. There were beads to string and a pull toy that made quacking noises.

It was all wonderful.

Ratchet who was holding a box watched with amazement. What a great idea, 'Christmas Surprise', he thought.

Then Jessie turned to him with a smile. "Ratchet has a box that has a toy they all can share, especially when they get older. Right now, I think that Rambler can use it with someone helping him until he learns how to do it."

They all looked at her, then Ratchet.

Ratchet stared at them, then looked in the box. "Do you want me to pull it out, Jessie?"

"Sure," Jessie said.

Ratchet did and a red bicycle with training wheels emerged. He set it down as Jessie turned to Prime. "Someone at Vandenburg thought a child should have a bicycle."

Prime nodded, glancing at Rambler who was looking at a pop-up book with Prowl.

Rambler looked up and saw the bike, transfixed for a moment at the sight. He looked at Prowl and Jessie, his expression clearly wondering what it was.

When she wheeled it out into the hallway the little bot rose to follow her. Half the room joined them as well watching as she halted in the corridor.

Rambler watched her and when she beckoned he came, then climbed on. She had hold of him and began to move as he put his feet on the pedals. Pushing them himself, they moved slowly down the corridor turning at the junction to pedal slowly back. They paused at the door as Rambler enraptured by the process geared up to go back again.

The party continued as soldier femmes, air force femmes and Autobot mechs talked, played with the children or just watched. It was a new thing to most of the mechs. Having been in war most if not all their lives, the simple pleasures of home, family, younglings, and celebrations had been few and far between. This was the first children's party many of the mechs had ever seen let alone participated in.

The femmes finally left, duty calling and when they did no one noticed Sideswipe and Sunstreaker skate away heading for the tarmac beyond.

They caught up with the femmes before they were back at their barracks cutting them off. Towering over the women, the two most feared front-liners in the Autobot Army halted beside them as Sideswipe knelt. He leaned in and smiled at them. "If you femmes ever need anything, **anything at all,** call on us. Sunstreaker and I will be there."

" **Anything** at all," Sunstreaker said as a predatory expression flitted across his face for a moment.

The femmes surprised but delighted nodded.

"Thank you, Sideswipe, Sunstreaker," Jessie Landon said smiling at both. "We will. Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas," Sideswipe said. "By the way, we're having a bonfire at the beach on your New Years. If you can come you're welcome."

"We'll be there," Jessie said as the others nodded happily. Then they waved and drove off.

For a moment they silently watched them go. Then Sunstreaker turned to his brother. "What the frag really **is** Christmas?"

"I don't know," Sideswipe said. "But I like Christmas Surprise. Did you see Silverbow?"

"Frag **ya** ," Sunstreaker said as they turned to go back. "How could you miss her? She's the prettiest femme in the whole slaggin' world."

Sideswipe for the first time in a while wholeheartedly agreed with his brother on something.

  
  


Chapter 95

  
  


=0=Leaving Diego for Mars

They walked to Cosmos to enter his big hold. A sack went with them, too. It was filled with some of the toys the younglings were given chosen by them for the five orphans and the four sparklings at Autobot City. Cosmos lifted off taking seven front-liners to Mars on a routine re-assignment.

-0-Autobot City, Mars at the same time

The sighting was not unexpected but it was unnerving. They turned their guns on the signal as it came to them over the out land arrays and made ready their defenses as the bogey skirted the atmosphere, such as it was. There were no Aerialbots on the planet, Cosmos was still inbound, so Springer couldn't marshal a presence to greet the stranger.

"Springer to Prime."

The audio from Autobot City filtered out over the command deck at Diego Garcia as Springer reported. Prime and Prowl preparing to go to a meeting at N.E.S.T. HQ paused to take the message, then walked toward Teletraan II. "Prime here."

"We have a bogey. A Seeker," Springer said as he stood at Tactical in the Ops Center at Autobot City.

"What do you have on it?" Prime asked, looking over the data pouring in from the out-land arrays scattered through the solar system and its edge in the Oort Field. "Short hand, Springer."

:It's a scout, Prime. I expected one a lot sooner but they don't seem to be inclined to come closer. They're outside the upper atmosphere and haven't come any nearer:

"We're sending the Aerialbots."

Prowl turned to the communications station and began to scramble them to leave as soon as possible.

"The bogey is hovering in a clear line of sight to Autobot City," Springer said as he checked radar. "We picked them up when they crossed the solar well but there was little to do except to track them until now."

"Very well," Optimus said. "Hold your fire. I do not know if they are just trying to provoke, to test the range of our defensive weapons or scouting out the activity around Mars in greater detail. I am on my way."

:Affirmative. Springer out:

Prime nodded to Prowl, tapping Jazz on the shoulder as they walked to the door. The two went out and on the way pulled Ironhide and Bumblebee into their team as they walked to the flight line where the Aerialbots were assembling to leave. As they began to board, the sound of the twins roaring up to join them added to the tension. Behind them, Autobot HQ and a worldwide network of interlinked military and civilian operations centers who worked to track the Decepticons went into high alert.

-0-Starscream

He'd finally figured out what had been bothering him. He hadn't had enough information. No one on the Nemesis was of any assistance to him. He had to figure this out alone as usual. The information wasn't complete. Something was off kilter. It would take more information before it all came clear. Nast was only one piece. Daniels and Galloway were another.

Springer and the others, they were ... off. His obsession was as strong as ever but it'd morphed into something more uneasy, less clear and straightforward. Nast had been silent for three days now and Starscream was irritated as he stalked through the Nemesis talking to no one. Not even his trine mates earned a glance.

They were outside the walls of his rage and his volcanic sense of vengeance. They were only useful for what he could have them do, so far gone in illness and its sister, delusion was he. Until he’d taken something from Prime, until he could show that he was truly the rightful leader of the Decepticons, the shadow of Megatron and even The Fallen would continue to haunt him. It would continue to torment and tear him apart.

Standing close by, watching him with a rising concern, Thundercracker and Skywarp shadowed Starscream. His growing irrationality was frightening and they wondered what they could do. His rage was reflected outward at everyone and the crew was uneasy. If they turned on the Seekers, there would be hell to pay. No one in the Decepticons labored there out of loyalty.

The sun arced across the sky, its light on the deck weak, filtering in from the star that held this system together. The cold outside was nothing compared to the cold in Starscream's spark as he worked through the growing madness for some sense of satisfaction against the Prime, his greatest enemy now that Megatron was missing and the Fallen dead.

He **had** to have one. It'd been so long he couldn't function without one. Optimus Prime was the new Megatron and Starscream would take him down, too. He **had** to. He no longer could do less and live.

-0-Autobot City, Mars

They landed, the Aerialbots and Prime. Three of them made an orbital traverse, then took off breaking into three trajectories to cover the system quickly. Two landed waiting to be dispatched. Prime and his team drove to the HQ and transformed to walk inside quickly.

Springer glanced at them from Teletraan III. "We've identified the bogey as Thundercracker."

Prime nodded. "Is he still on the radar?"

"No," Springer said. "He left when the Aerialbots left Earth. I can only guess he was here to scout."

"That is not good," Prime said. "Not good at all."

-0-The Nemesis

Thundercracker paced, walking with agitation back and forth in the small space of the munitions hold in the forward bulkhead of the ship. Stacked up all around them was the ammunition that allowed their fight. It was all they had unless their supply lines could deliver more but that was now tenuous. Unrest was sweeping their empire and they needed to go, to turn back and consolidate unless it all slip away.

Slip away like Starscream's processor.

"They've built a city," he said to Skywarp who was leaning on a box listening nearby. "They've built a city and I know those refugees are there. The Aerialbots chased me off. Three of them. Two more are on the Earth. Cosmos is there, too. They've made a place for themselves with allies and assured supplies. What do we have, Skywarp? Nothing but this dirt ball planet and a ... a leader that's going mad. What **is** it with command? What is it with Decepticon leadership that makes them mad?"

Skywarp shrugged. "He wants to harm Prime."

"It obsesses him. He mutters to himself. He won't interface anymore. There's nothing left between us, his **trine** , his closest allies." Thundercracker raged in his helm. Of the three, he was the one least committed to the Decepticons. If truth were to be told, he wouldn’t be a part of it but his trine was so he was, reluctant though he was.

Skywarp flickered his wings as he shook his head. "As long as we're here he won't give it up. For him to shut us out... that's a very bad sign. And think about it. If we left and went back, how long would he last in this condition? We don’t have the doctors to make right what’s wrong with him. To tell you the truth, Thundercracker, I don’t think he will live if he doesn’t get treatment from someone who knows what they’re doing.”

"We have to leave this place. We have to abandon them at least for now. The Autobots have us at stalemate. We can't defeat them at present," Thundercracker said. "Maybe we cannot defeat them ever."

Skywarp shifted uneasily. "I've been harboring doubts myself."

"Yet, Starscream is our leader and the troops hail him. This won't end well. He'll be seen as damaged if we go back and they'll kill him. We won't be able to save him," Thundercracker said. He thought a moment shifting his gaze to Skywarp with dread. "We have to talk to Prime."

Skywarp didn't say anything. It was the only avenue short of a shallow roadside grave left to travel.

-0-Autobot City, Mars

They sat in Ops Center watching the data pour in, analyzing it carefully for meaning. The Seeker had disappeared at the approach of the Aerialbots and had left the solar system jetting out of the solar well into empty space beyond. It seemed that things were going to fall back into stalemate when the message came through.

Springer working at Teletraan III saw the data as it hit the communications screen. Turning toward the command table, he called to Prime who came forward to read it with him. They glanced at each other, then gestured the others to come join the discussion.

-0-Starscream

He paced all through the night as bitter scenarios worked into his thoughts, then were discarded as others took their places.

Skywarp sat nearby, his expression unreadable. Behind him, Thrust, Ramjet and Dirge watched as well as disquiet filled their sparks suffusing the atmosphere of gloom that penetrated every corner of the Nemesis.

Thundercracker had arrived later that day, discussing the situation on Mars as he found it. The extent of construction was shocking and they talked for the first time that victory might never come. As it was, the empire they'd crafted was beginning to unravel in the vacuum of leadership and the word about Megatron and The Fallen filtering out into the universe. It would continue no matter if they evened the score they bore against this planet. Nothing was going to change down this road. The only place it led was to an early grave.

Word was spreading out of system that the Decepticons could be defeated and were by the Autobots along with a small organic species that had made an alliance with them. The fire was spreading everywhere. It was Starscream's job to quash it and the growing unrest but he couldn't even control his own personal rage. He would die and probably all of them as well if they went back to the Empire. That bitter trail lined with eons of abuse and futility was slipping away from them forever.

The decision reached was done without Starscream, so Thundercracker left making his way back to the system once more and their mortal enemies, the Autobots.

Starscream, his obsessions overriding his attention to details didn't notice. He was too busy trying to overthrow the enemy in his own personal war between his audials.

-0-Ops Center, Autobot HQ, Autobot City, Mars

The message was scrutinized carefully, every senior Autobot having their input. Then it was settled. A reply was formulated and sent. All it took now was to wait. Prime sat at the communications station sipping energon.

Prowl who was leaning against the curve of the sweeping console that ran around the entirety of the command deck scrutinized him. "You're going to go out there."

"I am," Prime replied.

"We can have it covered but I still don't trust them," Prowl said a frown forming on his face.

"We have to find out if this is genuine."

"He wants Springer."

"He will get Springer." Prime smiled slightly. "I could not refuse to take my bond now could I?"

Prowl smirked slightly as he leaned closer. "No."

They grinned at each other as they waited, the return ping on the receipt of their response passing down the arrays to Teletraan III as they bantering, passing the evening away while waiting for morning to come.

It was go.

-0-Ironhide

:Ratchet:

:Ironhide:

He stood on the command deck of the Autobot City Ops Center waiting for the response from the Decepticons. As he did, he considered that the day before they'd celebrated 'Christmas Surprise' with the younglings. The five younglings and four sparklings also celebrated albeit a day late but the toys the kids on Earth sent to them were appreciated.

Prime would issue a statement to the armed forces who would disseminate it to the proper groups. The news media would not be allowed to have the message because the children were still classified.

He peeked into the youngling play room earlier to watch them as they built things or looked at the pictures in the strange alien books. Games and fluffy shoes were also much appreciated and as he did he considered that his sparkling would be born here, the first one in their new life. In two decaorns, they would come here and it would become real. Walking to the large table that stood in the center of Ops Center strewn with diagrams, code datapads and other army detritus, he thought of what it would mean to have one of his own.

Hound and Trailbreaker got Silverbow by default. Hound was the one who was delegated to carry her on the rounds they made getting checked out, identified, even detailed in their first day on Mars.

She had clung to them seeing them as her saviors and now they were applying to be given legal rights to her as adoptive guardian genitors. Prime and Prowl would do the same with the three little mechs once things cooled off. Adoption was a normal thing in a culture as fractured as theirs, with even adults being adopted by other adults as well as children a common accepted thing. Given the scale of their despair and the annihilation of entire families, the bots were building their own again. Adoption was one of many paths toward that goal.

Right now they were stranded between peace and war with a Decepticon foe that was hard to gauge. Things that mattered were having to take a back seat for a bit.

:How are ya?:

:I'm fine:

:The sparkling?:

:Racing around my spark like a glitch head:

:Is that normal?: (Worried frown begins to grow)

:Yes:

:Oh: (Worried frown begins to fade)

:Anything happening yet?:

:No:

[Pause]

:Ironhide ...:

:What?:

:I was watching 'As The Kitchen Sinks' and they had this commercial on the television. It was about phone sex:

[Pause]

:Ratchet, you shouldn't be watchin' that sort of thing:

:Why not?:

:You might hurt yourself. Or the sparkling:

[Pause]

:What are you talking about, you dumb aft?:

[Pause]

:I don't know:

(Grin grows) :Ironhide?:

(Grin grows) :Ratchet?:

:Did I ever tell you how much I like to watch your aft when you walk away from me?:

[Pause]

:Is this some of that phone sexy?:

:Maybe:

:Oh:

(Big grin growing bigger) :Ratchet?:

:What ... big boy?:

[Pause]

(Grin grows bigger) :I am aren't I? Ratchet?:

:What? You know, Ironhide, you're making my circuits all ... **hot** and **bothered**...:

[Pause]

(Huge frown) :Is that bad? What's happening?:

[Pause]

(Ginormous suppressed chuckle) :No. I mean you turn me on... make me want ya, you big dumb aft. You really have to get with the idea here, Ironhide. I'm doing all the work:

:Oh. Uh ... well, you have a great yellow aft yourself, big boy:

(Huge chuckle that can't be suppressed) :Is that so? And what do you want to do with my great yellow aft, you big swaggering mech's mech, you:

(Ginormous grin) :Well, I could just grab it in my two big servos and squeeze:

Nearby ...

"What do you suppose is wrong with Ironhide? He's been grinning like a jackass and looking confused off and on for the past half breem," Prowl whispered to Optimus as he leaning down to nod in Ironhide's direction.

Prime looked, then frowned. "I saw a look like that on a television show about human babies. They were usually wetting their pants at the time," he said.

They stared at him a moment, then Prowl grinned slightly. "I wonder..."

"What?" Prime asked sliding his servo behind Prowl's hip to caress his aft on the down low.

Prowl looked down, then at Prime with a grin. "You do that very well. What were we talking about?"

Prime grinned. "Ironhide being a dumb aft."

"Ah, right," Prowl said getting a sheepish grin on his face. He looked at Optimus. "I think he's having phone sex with Ratchet."

"Phone sex?" Prime asked as his optics widened with amusement.

Prowl looked embarrassed then nodded. "Ratchet and I watch that show ... 'As The Kitchen Sinks' ..."

"The soap opera," Prime said having been a fan himself for some time unbeknownst to Prowl.

"Yes," Prowl said. "They have commercials and some of them are phone sex lines. Ratchet told me he was going to try it on Ironhide just to see if he'd do it. Sort of a time kill during the lull-between-shooting sort of thing."

They both looked at Ironhide with big grins.

-0-Ratchet

Sitting on a chair in his office, he leaned back to put his peds up. :You'd squeeze my aft? Is that all you got?:

:I'm a chaos bringer, Ratchet. That's only the start:

It was silent a moment.

:Yes?: Ratchet prompted.

A smirk and a leer floated over the bond link as Ironhide began to formulate a response. Then the klaxon went off and it was time to return to the world of Decepticon slagging and cold showers. :I gotta go:

:Ironhide?:

The link surged with an ocean of warmth and love.

Ratchet surged back sitting up with a frown on his face. He looked down at his chest plates feeling the sparkling roaring around with joie de vivre. "Well, I'm glad someone's having a little action," he said with a grin.

Rising to walk toward the door and Ops Center, Ratchet, the Only One of the Awesomeness That Was Ironhide thought about him and offered a prayer to Primus that his big fraggin' aft came back in one piece. "Slag 'em good, Ironhide," he said as he walked into the corridor and the world beyond.

The door closed silently in reply.

Chapter 96

  
  


-0-Autobot HQ, Autobot City, Mars

They walked outside, a couple of groups leaving for pre-arranged locations as Prime, Springer and Prowl watched. Walking toward the gates, Prime and Springer transformed as Prowl watched them go. When they’d disappeared into the distance, Prowl walked back to Ops Center to coordinate their defense.

-0-Thundercracker

He flew at top speed toward the heavily defended solar system that contained the solution to their predicament.

Or not.

Thundercracker had few illusions about what might take place but short of putting Starscream down there was nothing more he could do. None of the Seekers had any sway among the rank and file but Starscream. He did because he was Megatron's universally acknowledged personally chosen second-in-command. He was the acknowledged heir apparent because Megatron made it so. That Megatron wasn't here didn't matter. His hold over his faction transcended death or disappearance.

They still gave their allegiance to him no matter who stood at the helm of their faction. Starscream didn't have a chance if they turned on him. And given the Decepticon rule that only the strong could lead and they had to fight to keep their roles, it would be almost instantaneous, the challenge and dispatch to the Matrix of the big ailing Seeker. That his trine would have to fight, too, was assured by their cultural and factional rules. It would only be a matter of time before they were all dead.

Starscream had endured everything to reach the pinnacle of power and now that he had it he was slipping away in his processor, as if the achievement was the last possible blow in an endless parade of hurts to heavy to bear. The obsession with Prime was the last stop on the route to disaster that had been building since before the Fallen had been destroyed.

Megatron abused Starscream more than any other Decepticon. Starscream was the only mech in the Decepticons who had no fear of Megatron. He had to manage his behavior half the time to prevent the mercurial dictator from exploding but it was tactical. The beatings he took for Seekerkin or because Megatron refused to bear his own responsibility had become his badge of honor and added to his ferocious legend among the troops.

Many, if not most of the rank-and-file Decepticons feared Starscream almost as much as Megatron. Granted, Starscream had provoked half of the beatings he got, needling and pushing the big unstable dictator. He couldn't help it. Megatron was his obsession then. Prime was his obsession now.

It was as if Starscream needed something to hate, to torment and especially to torment him. Maybe the endless vorns, the endless eons of adversity with Megatron had finally caught up to him. Maybe Megatron had finally broken him at last. He wasn't here. No one knew where Megatron had gone. But he might as well be with them casting grief and fear with every glance, sharp word and physical blow.

Thundercracker shifted into a flight pattern that would put him past Saturn to use the gravitational well of that planet to push him toward Mars and the Autobots. No sense using more fuel than he needed to get where he was going.

It was all so sad, lonely and intensely worrying. Starscream wouldn't ever get the chance to be the leader of their faction on his own capable hook. All the sorrows, abuse, fear, and loathing, all the magnificently brave taunting and pointed goading had come to nothing. All his personal bravery, his unbelievably reckless gall and dubious risk taking were for nothing. If the grounders, the others like Shockwave had any idea of how diminished he was they would kill him on the spot. Then the Seekers would be slaughtered to the last one just to make sure that they wouldn’t be an issue again.

Shockwave had no hesitation about doing what he decided must be done. He was halfway up Megatron's aft and had no spark nor conscience to most optics. What he did have was a coldly scientific mind and a burning ambition for power and leadership. There was nothing he wouldn’t do to gain both.

They were all at risk.

Starscream was at risk but he didn't even know it. They had almost no place to go but to the Autobots because Megatron would hunt them to the ends of the universe. Prime was it but even that wasn't assured. A lot of suffering and hatred stood between the two sides, a chasm of energon and tears so vast that it might not be possible to traverse.

Thundercracker had no hope as he flew but he knew he had to try.

-0-At the meeting place

Prime and Springer sat on an outcropping of rocks and looked at the sky. It was a pale orange hue due to the sand content blowing through the world on winds that came and went with the seasons. Somewhere in the well between Mars and Jupiter, a lone Seeker was flying toward them. They were kept abreast of the situation by Prowl's updates.

Behind them and on all sides were squads of Autobots parked, awaiting the word to come forward. In the air making orbits around the planet were the Aerialbots flying in loose patterns, none of them more than nanokliks from the scene.

All of them waited.

-0-Thundercracker

He came into the upper atmosphere of Mars, his sensors reading the location of the Prime. He felt fear and despair pulse through him, his pride lying in tatters as he slowed his descent in a cautious arc toward the Prime. He was met with two Aerialbots, weapons online and sensors locked onto him. They flew alongside Thundercracker escorting him downward, then landed, rolling to a stop to transform.

Thundercracker, his colors covered in the gray paint that the Fallen had apparently preferred from the 'good old days' turned toward them, looking at them without any reaction on his handsome face.

Silverbolt taking the initiative stepped forward. "Thundercracker, offline your weapons or you can't go further."

Thundercracker nodded and complied as the Aerialbots scanned to confirm the actions, Together with the Aerialbots surrounding him, they walked toward Prime and Springer who sat nearby watching them approach.

Prime watched the Seeker, a proud elite member of the Decepticons walk toward him, every step heavy and weary. He looked worn and even though he tried to hold up his head he was clearly stressed and tired. His colors were missing, the blue and white that he’d worn every other time he’d seen Thundercracker was gone. It was true then. The Fallen required them to submit even down to the color of their chassis. It was sad and it was maddening. But it was also an opportunity and he was determined to take it if there was any chance for peace.

They reached the two and stopped. Thundercracker's expression was schooled to a neutrality that was admirable.

Prime waited a moment, then arose to walk toward the huge Seeker. He paused before the solemn faced powerful mech as Springer joined him. Prime watched the Seeker stare at the Wrecker, his thoughts his own. "Thundercracker, you asked to speak."

The Decepticon nodded, shifting on his peds with unconcealed anxiety. It was clearly an ordeal and Prime wasn't going to make it easy. "I'm glad that you came, Prime. I know you didn't have to. But I'm here in good faith."

"I am listening."

-0-Galloway

He sat in his home office, a phone call from Daniels just concluded. There had been a lot of activity on the base, much of it among the Autobots alone and they couldn't get any clear answers from them about it. There were also children, alien children among them and that was disconcerting as well. They were breeding here on Earth. How they did he couldn't speculate, the mere idea of it disturbing to him.

Rising to walk to the window, he looked out at the falling snow and wondered what he could do about making the information that Daniels provided to him almost daily an important part of his crusade. He was determined to make the Autobots leave the Earth. 'Earth for the Earthers' was a slogan that was coalescing around him and he considered using it for his campaign.

He’d have to talk to Nast, perhaps meet him at his house in Aspen, Colorado. Getting in a little skiing, perhaps have a fundraiser and network with the moneyed elite, that would be useful. Using his time in as many ways as he could all at the same time, that was the key to making his presence rise. Turning back, he settled in his seat by the fireplace once more and began to make phone calls to the usual suspects in the media. By the time he was done he would be on every single Sunday morning news program on television.

-0-Prime and Thundercracker

"I would like to discuss the terms you require so that the Seekers might surrender to you and seek asylum."

For a moment, Prime savored the words, the sensation of besting an elite force in the Decepticons filtering through his processor like a warm tide. They were formidable and Starscream was no coward. He fought hard and would think through things, figuring out what was feasible and what wasn't, leaving when it was clear that a win was not possible, something Megatron never would do. In that matter, Starscream was more tactical, less predictable and in many ways more dangerous.

Starscream had become Megatron's second for a damned good reason and thus, this was a major event, perhaps historical in its magnitude happening here on this dusty plain as the leader of Seekerkin sought terms. For all his flaws, Starscream was more coherent in his thinking and actions than Megatron had ever been. That was why he’d been kept around. Even though he was a schemer and a back stabber, Starscream was no one's fool.

"And Starscream? What does he think about this or does he even know?"

Thundercracker looked down, then up again with a haunted expression in his eyes. "I'd like to speak with you privately." He glanced at Springer. "Your bond ... I would prefer that he not be included."

Prime considered the request. "Springer is here because Starscream has made him an issue and nothing more."

"This is difficult," Thundercracker said. "If you want to make a pact with us I'd prefer to talk to you privately."

"I will record every word you say," Prime replied.

"I'm aware but I ask you to honor my request," he replied.

Prime thought a moment, then nodded. He turned to glance at Springer.

Springer nodded then walked back to the rocks to sit. The Aerialbots stepped back moving away as well.

Prime looked at them, then Thundercracker. "Very well."

"I'm here because we wish to seek asylum from you to live here in peace. Starscream ... is not himself. Our faction is unaware of that so far but they'll find out soon enough and then there will be tremendous trouble, perhaps even death," he said quietly. "Shockwave won't allow Starscream to lead the faction if he knew that he was ... incapable right now. He wouldn't hesitate to have him killed."

"You want to come to us," Prime said. "You do understand that our allies would want your helms on a platter. They have less compunction about retribution than we do."

"We have no other refuge," Thundercracker said honestly. "Starscream is not well, he's mentally ill. If you knew the life he's had all these eons with Megatron you might find it in your spark to allow a refuge for him and for us. He is extremely ill and can’t make coherent decisions. When the faction finds out, they will hunt all of us to the death. We're prepared to give you our oath to lay down arms against you. All we ask is refuge and a chance tor recover ourselves. We won't be a force against you again, Prime. You have our word and so will the Matrix. You know we won’t break that oath. It's over for our kin. We need refuge to gather them into the peace."

Prime considered that. "And Starscream ... he will go along with this?"

"It's not a matter for him to consider. We're going to take him out of the Nemesis and keep him away from Shockwave's minions. But we need a refuge. You'd be getting an elite veteran troop away from your enemy. We'll honor our oaths. You know we will."

"And your crimes on Earth," Prime said, "the humans will not easily forget or forgive."

"We'd like to stay here," Thundercracker said. "We don't wish to ever return to Earth."

"You will not be allowed to no matter what happens here," Prime said.

"We need to know, immediately if possible. There’s no time. I can't stress that enough. It's going to be difficult to leave without them killing us but we're leaving, Prime," Thundercracker said. "Shockwave is getting close to knowing what's going on. I don't know how much longer we have before he makes his move. Starscream isn't returning his messages."

He glancing at the ground, his expression filled with pain and weariness. He looked up at Prime. "We're a trine. We're one. We can't let Starscream have no chance to be well, to find another way. We won't go down without a fight even if we die trying to save him. But we'd like sanctuary. We give you our oaths that we'll not lift arms against you again."

Prime looked at the Seeker, his memories of them coming one by one. He remember seeing them flying in the air over Iacon for the love of it, for the joy, like flocks of ravens flying for love and happiness. They were proud, ancient and elite. Now they were lost, hopeless and endangered. How much do we want to lose of ourselves he thought? How much must disappear because of Megatron? He looked at Thundercracker. "These are my terms for you to turn yourself into us here. If you fail anyone of them you will be turned away to face Shockwave. Do you agree?"

Thundercracker nodded, his expression falling into relief and weariness as his tension ebbed. "Yes, on my personal and clan honor," he said.

Then Prime explained to him what he would need for them to find refuge on Mars.

-0-Starscream

He sat staring at the heavens, at the stars above. They were so far away and he was here trapped on the ground. The sky called to him and he wanted to go but he was confused. He was weary and uncertain. Prime was some place. The Autobots were some place. He was here trapped on the ground, trapped in his own uncertainty and pain.

He was alone.

Sitting nearby, his face filled with his own suffering, Skywarp watched over Starscream as he waited for Thundercracker to come back. He was sure he would. The Autobots wouldn't break a flag of truce. They'd let him come back and then they'd know what to do. He thought about being free, of flying in a sky without danger, without hunger being his companion, of the freedom of being just another Seeker with his trine. He thought about the good days, the ones before the war when the three of them were just Cybertronians and not the leading edge of Megatron's sword.

He shook his head as Dirge, Ramjet and Thrust came to sit with him. Behind him in the control room, the comm system alerted. The flashing light was coming from Shockwave. He wanted to know what was happening. The night crew was let off, the grounders walking away sullenly and suspiciously. It would be all or nothing now, Skywarp thought. Either Prime would live up to his image and allow them refuge or by morning the lot of them would be dead.

The moon traversed the sky above as they sat below, lords of the sky trapped on the ground. They sat together waiting for Thundercracker and watched Starscream disappear into the sorrows of his memories, lost, alone and despairing.

  
  


Chapter 97

  
  


-0-Thundercracker

He stood with Prime absorbing the rules for surrender and the obligations they'd have doing so. For a moment, all the past descended upon him weighing him down with a terrible crushing burden. The endless war, the endless fighting, the endless hardships...

He'd not ever been clearly a Decepticon. He’d always struggled to belong, his doubts always with him. His trine was his loyalty, his trine and his kind, the Seekerkin. Staring at Prime, seeking in his expression the back stab, the tell that would allow him to know that he'd be on treacherous ground ... he saw none of it. He saw resolution, determination and leadership. He saw character, honesty, dignity and maybe even the shadow of pity.

That was a pang in his spark, pity. They were an ancient proud race, Seekerkin. They were the lords of the heavens and pity was not a word that Thundercracker would believe applied to them. But now it did, most likely, so he offered his servo gratefully reaching out to the only lifeline they had.

Prime watched him work through the grief, the loss of pride, the hopefulness that he, Prime, was going to keep his end of the bargain. They must be in terrible disarray to come to him like this. Starscream must be in dire shape. He reached out to grasp Thundercracker's wrist as a charge of energy between them sealed the deal involving personal oaths and the Matrix. They'd not break their word now. They'd come here and stay without trouble. The Seeker Oath had been given and in his memory, even in the war, he could not find a time when a Seeker had broken their personal word.

Thundercracker nodded, then moving swiftly to transform in mid air and fly away.

Prime watched him admiring the beauty of their form and movement as Thundercracker roared into the sky. He swept up until he was a mere dot flying straight up into a stall, then he descended, a graceful beautiful barrel roll bringing him around as he arced downward, slipping through the air over Prime's head before racing into the night of space and his trine beyond the well of the solar system.

Prime watched the salute, the graceful passage of his fellow Cybertronian and felt at peace with the decision to save them. Megatron had murdered their world. He was not going to allow him to murder the Seekers, too. That ancient tribe would find shelter here. And they would keep their word. This he knew in his spark. Turning toward Autobot City, he transformed and called his mechs to follow.

And they did.

-0-Skywarp

He got the call from Thundercracker from far away, reaching him over their bond link. Rising, he whispered to the others reaching swift agreement among them. Dirge, Thrust and Ramjet walked away talking together as they faded into the dusty darkness beyond the Nemesis. Anyone who would be watching, and they would be, would think they were taking a walk together. When they disappeared, Skywarp walked to where Starscream sat huddled, fearfully watching the sky overhead.

Skywarp sat beside him, putting his arm around the suffering Seeker and leaned into him praying that he could comprehend that they needed to go and that he would trust what he was asked to do. They sat together, Skywarp sending to him all the emotion he could find to spare ... warmth, protection, appreciation and that most guarded secret feeling the three shared, a deep and abiding love.

Then he stirred between them memories of skies traversed, of the warmth of the sun as they perched on high peaks, the wind flowing smoothly over their wings as they played together, flying and falling, dropping and climbing in the skies that were their domain.

There were no bars in the sky, no holds on your spark, no limits to the joy that was there. Skywarp sent that to Starscream and the broken mech heard him after a while. He began to warm, remembering his own beautiful moments, his own beauty and as he did Skywarp began to tug him to his peds. "Come, Starscream. I want to fly," he said.

Starscream standing unsteadily, his optics looking upward with a terrible longing agreed. "So do I."

"Come with me," Skywarp said, turning to him with a desperate expression on his face. "Do you trust me?"

Starscream looked at him for a long time, his exhaustion so evident that Skywarp felt something tear inside him. "I want to fly."

"Then come with me," Skywarp said. "Come and we'll fly away."

Starscream hesitated, looking around as if he had forgotten something. Something was here that he had to do but he couldn't remember it. Then he turned to Skywarp staring at his sorrow and weariness. He hesitated, then nodded as he let Skywarp take his arm to lead him to where the others had gone. They disappeared into the darkness and it was silent.

In the doorway of the ship, three Decepticons watched, then they went inside. Shockwave would know now and there would be no way home again, no mercy and no amnesty forever. For now on, the Seekers were anathema. They would be first on the kill list, even ahead of Prime.

-0-Flying

They flew together with Starscream in the middle. Half of them flew with sensors forward, the other half behind. They went as fast as they could go and wished for more speed. It wouldn’t happen. Starscream began to deteriorate at an alarming rate. He was erratic in his flight, his speed slowing and increasing as his mental condition began to decompensate with speed. His commentary on their bond link was becoming incoherent. By the time they reached the solar well, he was erratic enough to force a landing.

Skywarp sat on the ground with Starscream half in his lap, his keening so piercingly sad that the others paced with agitation. "He can't continue. Go to Prime. Tell him we need transport. Hurry."

Thundercracker nodded then blazed away as fast as he could manage. The others knelt sick at heart. All they could do now was wait.

-0-Prime

He heard the call and answered it. He turned to Ironhide, Ratchet, whom he recalled after the first meeting and Kup. They walked to the door transforming to roll to the airfield. Cosmos took them away and as Springer stood in the Ops Center he wondered about the idea of having six Seekers living on their world. He’d have to be very careful. Very, very careful.

-0-Oort Field

They arrived then landed on the asteroid fragment. The Seekers nearby watched warily.

Prime stepped out followed by Ironhide, Ratchet and Kup. They paused a moment, each side taking in the other, then Ratchet stepped past them walking to Starscream to kneel.

Starscream looked exhausted, worn to such a degree that it was alarming to Ratchet. It was critical to move him fast. He was incoherent, a soft keening sound emanating from him an indicator of extreme pain and likely, extensive processor damage. Ratchet scanned him then arose, turning toward Prime. "We have to get him to Med Bay. He's in critical condition and in imminent danger of death."

Skywarp looked at Prime with a terrible expression of fear and desperation as Thundercracker bent down to tenderly lift Starscream into his arms. Turning toward the others he moved to stand with Skywarp.

Prime sickened by the tragedy of their plight, by the awful waste and desolation of the war stood aside as Thundercracker carried Starscream to the shuttle. He placed him inside and climbed down allowing Ratchet to move inside with the fading Seeker. They stepped back listening as Prime outlined re-entry to Autobot City, then he and Ironhide entered the shuttle and the door closed.

Cosmos rose up followed by the five Seekers and for the first time in the eons since the war, since the devastation of their world and their people, a Prime was escorted to his capital by a Seeker flight.

-0-Autobot City, Mars

They landed at the airfield, a heavy guard awaiting them and waited as Starscream was off loaded by Thundercracker who emotionlessly waited for directions. Ratchet headed toward the gate as he gestured to Thundercracker to follow. They began the walk back to the city as the others transformed. Ironhide with weapons online walked behind Thundercracker who was following Ratchet. When they reached the city, almost everyone including the refugees had gathered to watch.

Thundercracker, his spark crushed with the burdens of their sorrow and the humiliation of their state walked between the silent Cybertronians lining both sides of the street that led to The Fortress. He held his head up, his wings were erect and his facade almost made him believe himself. They entered with armed guards all around him heading to Med Bay where he tenderly lay Starscream on a berth. The Seeker was mercifully unconscious as Thundercracker stepped back allowing Ratchet access.

Ratchet was all business going through a diagnostic and when he concluded he looked at Thundercracker as well as Prowl and Prime who’d joined them. "He's nearly dead," Ratchet said. "How long has it been since he's energized like he's supposed to?"

Thundercracker shrugged. "We've dealt with deprivation. It's the way it is."

"That's a large part of his condition. He's missing a number of essential nutrients, he's malnourished and he's injured. How did he get so many injuries to his helm?" Ratchet asked, fearing and knowing the answer already. "His processor's degraded and there's deep circuit damage."

Thundercracker's expression of hatred was only fleeting. "Megatron," he whispered softly. "He'd take it out on Starscream when he failed. Always Starscream. He'd beat him until he couldn't move. We don't have medics. We did the best we could."

Ratchet nodded. "You all need to leave. I have a lot of repairs to do."

"Will he be well?" Thundercracker asked, his voice filled with desolation.

"I’ll try," Ratchet said looking at Thundercracker with a critical eye. "You all need help. I'll start with Starscream first, then the rest of you next."

Thundercracker nodded, reluctantly turning to leave with Ironhide.

It was silent a moment, then Prime and Prowl stepped closer to look down at their nemesis with a mixture of sorrow and regret. "How could it come to this?" Prime asked as Prowl slipped his servo into the big mech's own. "How did we come to this? How could our people end up in this condition?"

Ratchet shook his head. "I'll try to save him but I don't know ... he's had a lot of hardship. What his mental condition will be if he lives, I don't know. But I'll try."

Prime nodded. "I know, Ratchet." He and Prowl walked to the door to leave and Ratchet was alone with Starscream and two guards. Shaking his head sadly, he began to work.

-0-The Seekers

They sat on a bench, some standing next to those sitting as they waited their fate. Thundercracker hadn’t told them the details but they’d followed anyway. They were brothers, they were Seekers, they would stay together and face the fate they would meet as one. Some of them were clearly frightened and some were just too weary to care. They looked up at Prime as he walked toward them with Thundercracker at his side.

He paused as he reached them, his optics taking in their condition with dismay. "I want you to follow Ironhide. He will take you to the wash racks and then you can energize. After that you will be shown your quarters. You are confined to it until further notice. I will be posting guards but I am trusting that they will not be necessary for too long. Thundercracker gave your oath. Do you give it, too?"

They looked at him, waiting for the give away and it didn't come. Skywarp rising uncertainly, extended his arm. Prime grasped it, the electric surge sealing his agreement. The others, looking at him with wariness or disbelief arose and offered their arms, too. One by one, they agreed and it was sealed. Then they followed Ironhide.

Prime and Prowl watched them go silently.

-0-A short time later

A colorful clutch of Seekers walked to their quarters, a spacious outbuilding that had been constructed once Thundercracker had left to return from his first visit. It was tall enough and big enough for them, the clear aluminum across the top for the roof allowed them a view of the sky. Inside there were berths to sleep on, berths designed for Seekers. On one wall were facilities for energon and cubes stacked neatly on a shelf. They walked inside to look around with disbelief.

Somewhere Starscream was getting help. Here they were safe, energized fully for the first time in vorns, clean, colorful and safe. Somewhere, Shockwave had the truth and would be hunting them. But here they were safe and no one could touch them. For the first time in eons they were safe.

It was almost more than they could bear.

  
  


Chapter 98

  
  


-0-Autobot City, Mars Ops Center

They sat together waiting for an update from Ratchet. Prime was silent for a while, then called the members of his alpha team together in the center of the great room. "This puts our plans to catch Starscream into the recycle bin."

Prowl nodded. "We do have all the evidence of collusion by Nast and the others. We can take down Intel-Martin."

Prime thought a moment. "What if someone else picks up the ball? What if ... I suppose we are looking at Shockwave now ... what if he picks up Starscream's network?"

"Would he even know?" Springer asked.

"I would imagine he will sift the Nemesis to find every single morsel he can," Prime said shifting in his chair. "I need to speak to Thundercracker."

"That assumes that Starscream even mentioned what he was up to," Prowl posed.

"He might have or not," Prime agreed. "But we will not know until we talk and it will be a point of convergence for him. Their security depends upon ours."

Springer nodded. "Want me to get him?"

Prime nodded. "It might be time to impress him," he said. "I think when he was landing here, seeing how we have dug in and expanded that he was."

"Agreed," Prowl said.

Springer arose to walk out of the command deck heading to the doors and the Seeker quarters beyond. Prowl watched him go. "Are you going to tell him about Springer?"

Prime looked at Prowl and grinned. "I think it would be merciful, agreed?"

Prowl smiled and nodded, his gaze returning to the door again.

-0-Seeker Quarters

He walked toward the group's quarters, a big building along the curtain wall of The Fortress. Ramjet, Dirge and Thrust were sitting on a bench outside absorbing solar energy into their secondary power systems. Rising with wary expressions, they watched as 'Prime's bond' came toward them to halt at the door. "I need to get Thundercracker. Prime wants to speak with him."

The three exchanged a wary look, then Thrust went inside. Thundercracker came out, then stared warily at Springer. "I wasn't aware that we were going to be interrogated."

"Prime wants to ask you about a couple of things. Don't expect boiling oil or red hot pokers. He's the Prime."

Thundercracker glanced at the others who were watching with fearful wary expressions. "I'll be back. I'll try to find out about Starscream." He looked at Springer. "We can find out, can't we?"

Springer shrugged. "We probably can. It depends on how Ratchet's doing."

Thundercracker nodded to the others, then walked alongside Springer back into the building.

Thrust, Ramjet and Dirge stood together watching them leave. "I don't like it. They want to know things."

Skywarp stepping out to watch as well shrugged. "He's right. This is the Prime, the weak-sparked Autobot. He'll keep his word. No more suffering."

"Do you really think so?" Dirge asked as he glanced at him.

"I believe in the Prime. He'll keep his word," Skywarp said with conviction.

They stood together watching the doors beyond as they waited for Thundercracker to come back.

-0-Inside

They walked together down the corridor, the walls constructed like a fortress on Cybertron. Some of the refugees were artisans and there were now metallic pieces of art on the walls lyrical in design, all of them meaningful to Cybertronians. He looked at it, the building itself and the people they met, all of them stepping away, some fearfully.

Before, it would have been amusing. Now it was painful. They were all from the same planet and shared the same culture and history. Yet now he was hated. He was the enemy, the source of all their suffering and it bothered him. It had a few times before as he struggled with his allegiances. The trine had won out so he followed Starscream and Skywarp into the Pit. Now he was the one who had to be strong and lead. He had to save them so he went to the Prime ready to do what he could for all of them.

Entering the command deck, he scanned it and all the Autobots that were there. He recognized a few and knew he would know the rest if their designations were spoken. It was a small world, the one they lived in and even across the span of the universe they still were able to know about and of each other.

The Prime sat in a chair in the middle of the room, a table filled with objects, datapads and other items that aided their effort next to him as he leaned an elbow upon it. Prime was watching him, noting everything about him, regarding him like one pro to another. He stared at Thundercracker as he walked up to wait with resignation and unease. Thundercracker didn't see the battle mask in place and thought it was the first time he had ever seen Prime's face. It was handsome and wise. It was confident and other things that Thundercracker had little experience with in the leadership of his faction.

Merciful.

Compassionate.

Even kindly.

He waited, uncertain what to do. He was alone and surrounded. He’d given his word and there would be no disobedience from him. Prime had all the cards.

Prime watched him come forward, admiring the familiar paint that signaled who he was. The Fallen had erased that from him. He’d erased it from Starscream. That was a very bad thing, he knew. They wore their colors proudly, the arrays designating their clans, status, pride and accomplishments. Seekers were a special group among his kind, their lore and mores extremely important, ancient and proudly held, defining them to the outside world. Getting their colors back was a significant step in his attempt to gain their trust and ensure that they wouldn’t be a problem.

"You wished to see me, Prime," Thundercracker said finally breaking the silence.

"I do," Prime said, rising rising to stand. He stood in a motion of respect, something that was an important physical statement among Seekers. You were invited to sit, to be level and equal with others who were older and held more status than you. Before that, if you were going to speak peacefully to another Seeker about matters of importance you stood up, faced each other and made the salutations. "I wish to speak to you about what Shockwave might want to do about this. I think you will find that our security guarantees yours. So I invite you to sit and talk openly and fully."

Thundercracker relaxed slightly, the effort that Prime was giving to him shocking. He was making the salutations. He didn't have to but he did and he invited Thundercracker to sit. No one had done that in so long he had almost no memories of it. No one that was a grounder, he considered. "Thank you," he said simply.

A chair was brought to him by an Autobot he didn't know. Thundercracker waited until Prime started to sit before sitting himself, the lower status Seeker allowing the higher status individual that courtesy. "You know our customs."

"I am Prime."

Thundercracker nodded. "I would hope before I leave that word about Starscream would be available. He's part of our trine and we're all very, very worried."

Prime nodded. "We will check with Ratchet."

Thundercracker nodded as he continued the formal exchange. "We thank you for your hospitality and that of your House. It’s gratefully received and should the opportunity arise it will be reciprocated."

Prime nodded. "It will be happily accepted," he said closing the formal salutations. He leaned forward, frowning slightly as he did. "What did Starscream tell you about a number of humans that he was corresponding with on Earth?"

Thundercracker thought back. "We know he was. He was seeking information and they were seeking weapons. It was to be a mutual exchange. He also was building obligations among the humans, those in power and the media. He wanted to install puppets and undermine your allegiances with the humans from within."

"And with Starscream gone we can assume that Shockwave will take it all in and perhaps continue it," Prime posed.

Thundercracker nodded. "It would be safe to assume that. I would in his place."

Prime nodded as he sat back. "We would like to know about the size of the enemy we face and any long term plans that you are aware of. It would be in your best interests. If we fall, so do you."

Thundercracker nodded as he exhaled through his vents softly. "I know," he said quietly. "The Nemesis has thirty-seven mechs, most of them flight capable and some symbiotic. There are seven of them active on the Earth now. They're loyal to Megatron and Shockwave is, too. There isn't enough energon to have them all active. Our supply lines were disrupted by unrest in the empire. Shockwave is dealing with that. It will occupy him for a while but he'll pick up where Starscream left off. I believe that to be true."

Prime nodded. "I will wish to speak with you more later. I hope you feel that you can do that without fear or holding back. What happens to us happens to you and if you want to truly be safe and free you have to choose your sides now."

"We're aware of that. Most of us have suffered a lot, some of us are wary and having trouble believing that you're not going to harm us in the end. We've seen and lived through a lot. We want to believe."

Prime nodded. "You can." It was silent a moment, then Prime leaned forward. "I have a story to tell you, one that will explain a lot of things."

Thundercracker leaned forward and listened, his processor filling with dismay at what he heard. When Prime was finished he turned to Prowl. "This is my bond, Thundercracker. My real bond."

Thundercracker sat for a moment in shock and dismay as the fullness of the deception filled him. Then he leaned forward to rest his helm in his servos, his wings drooping until they nearly touched the floor.

Prime looked at him and felt no joy. He thought he would telling the story, letting them in on the joke but he didn't. All he felt was tired.

-0-Med Bay

Ironhide watched as Thundercracker walked to the med berth where Starscream lay. The shell of his helm was removed and the inner workings of Starscream's processor were open to see. Parts of it were missing and pieces of broken circuitry, even charred bits were laying in a tray beside the berth.

Ratchet came from around the corner and as he watched, Thundercracker leaned over the prone figure, a look of deep suffering formed on his face. He glanced at Ironhide who gazed back shaking his head slightly. Then Ratchet came forward stopping by the tray to move it out of Thundercracker's sight.

"How is he, Doctor?" Thundercracker asked softly as his servo hovered over Starscream's helm as he hesitated to touch the injured cranium.

"There's a lot of damage. A lot of it is very old and accumulated. I'm replacing circuits as I find them. I'm shunting programming through the areas that can't be repaired. I'd like to know when his last injury occurred and what it was."

Thundercracker thought back to a particular terrible moment that was another dark shadow on his spark. They'd returned to the Nemesis, the Fallen left behind in a pile of slag in the sand of the insect world. Megatron had been injured and demanded repair. As he did, Megatron had begun to calculate offense, assign guilt and design punishment.

He always did. Nothing was ever his fault. Starscream was always his punching bag. He knew the others would be less enticing targets. Megatron knew that he and his fellow Seekers would bow and be obsequious, so he and the others were never any challenge either for or to him. But Starscream … he always was. Sometimes the Seeker would say the right things in the right way but mostly he didn't because it galled him to have to toe lines with Megatron. Then he would be the one to suffer.

Megatron had assigned blame to Starscream for the death of the Fallen. He’d gone from the medic station to Starscream. He found him on the command deck and lit into him like a laser guided missile. It was vicious, direct, unmerciful and long lasting. He’d beaten Starscream with his fists, he’d kicked him with his peds and even when Starscream was lying on the deck in his own energon off lined and defenseless, he had continued.

No one had intervened. Not the trine. Not the grounders. No one.

Thundercracker and the others had gone outside and covered their audials groaning with fear and hatred, pacing as they waited for Megatron to expend his emotional tirade. It was always the same when this happened. They’d reached the point where they were paralyzed with fear and impotent to stop or assist when it happened. They were as wounded in their paralysis as Starscream was in his beatings. When they went back in to pull Starscream away, he’d taken nearly five stellar cycles to come back to himself. When he did he was changed.

Now Thundercracker could see why. "Megatron. He blamed Starscream for the death of the Fallen." His voice was filled with bitterness and hatred.

"That's insane," Ratchet said glancing at Thundercracker with surprise. "How was it **his** fault?"

"It didn't matter," Thundercracker said. "Starscream never gave in, he never bowed. He was brave that way."

"Or stupid," Ratchet said looking at the sadness on Thundercracker's face with concern.

"Brave," Thundercracker said as he glanced at Ratchet with a degree of defiance. "Starscream is brave. He was **brave**."

Ratchet glanced at Ironhide, then the monitors. "I have work to do."

"How is he?" The voice was soft and plaintive.

"I think he'll live but I can't guarantee what he’ll be like when he comes to himself again," Ratchet said with a voice soft and kindly.

Thundercracker nodded then paused as he turned to go. "Thank you, Doctor, for helping him."

Ratchet nodded, then watched as Thundercracker walked out followed by a silent Ironhide. He turned to look at Starscream. "I never thought I'd see the day I'd feel badly for you, Starscream, you fraggin' slagger. You better live through this slag. There's mechs that actually need you, it appears." Then he got back to work again.

  
  


Chapter 99

  
  


-0-Med Bay

Ironhide entered, nodding to the guards as he walked to Ratchet who was bent over Starscream attaching more energon lines into this depleted systems. He waited, watching Ratchet's servos moving here and there plugging in this and unplugging that, his optics reading the print outs that looked like gibberish to Ironhide.

Unreadable, unpronounceable and incomprehensible.

Ratchet turned toward Ironhide tiredly. He took an energon cube from Ironhide as the two walked to the office next to intensive care to sit on the couch in the corner. Ratchet leaned into Ironhide as the big mech slipped his arm around Ratchet's shoulders. "You look worn out."

"It's a lot of handwork doing these kind of repairs. There were a lot of loose bits floating around in there," Ratchet said sipping his energon. "It took a lot of time and patience but we got them all out."

"You did good," Ironhide said quietly. "I can't believe that I have any kind of sympathy for Starscream. I just do. A little."

Ratchet nodded. "Thundercracker and the others, they made him personal."

"They did. I'll still slag him into the Pit if he ever crosses the line. But I feel some sort of sadness about him. Who could’ve guessed?"

Ratchet nodded, shifting to a more comfortable position. "I guess Megatron is such a fraggin' monster that he can make even Starscream sympathetic."

"Give me a few hours. I'll get over it."

Ratchet grinned. "Wait until he talks again."

Ironhide chuckled. "His voice is a good enough reason to frag him alone."

Ratchet chuckled. "I wonder where Megatron went?"

"I don't know. But I imagine he'll make sure we know soon enough," Ironhide said leaning his cheek against Ratchet's helm. "How do you feel? How's the sparkling?"

"Tired. The sparkling is quiet right now. He was going to the races this morning."

"It isn't long now," Ironhide said, squeezing Ratchet's shoulders. "Soon enough, you'll be here."

"I will," Ratchet said. "I want the sparkling to be separated here, Ironhide. I want this."

"I know," Ironhide said.

A machine beeped and died down in the other room. Ratchet walked out to look at it, then Starscream. Ironhide came to stand by his side. "He's got some functionality in his cognitive abilities. I was afraid he'd be unable to think. Maybe he can."

"His memories and the like? What about that?" Ironhide asked as his servo gently rubbed Ratchet's back.

"Hard to say, Ironhide," Ratchet said. "He's functional at a sparkling level at the moment. I'm hoping between the replacement parts and his self repair routines he'll be able to find his way back. Right now? He can't fly."

Ironhide glanced at Ratchet, then Starscream. "That's the kiss of death for a Seeker."

Ratchet nodded with an expression as weary as his diagnosis.

-0-Autobot HQ, Earth

Bluestreak sat at Teletraan II on night shift. The idea of Seekers on Mars had been a huge surprise and even though they’d given their oath, a lot of the Autobots were unconvinced that they were going to be safe. Now they had civilians, sparklings and younglings to protect. The garrison had a home and a potential refuge from running, chasing and being shot at by an implacable enemy. The idea that the Seekers had to turn themselves in due to injury and debilitation was only small comfort. Few of them had not had an encounter with Starscream and his Seekers.

Prime was expected back in the morning, a meeting schedule that couldn't be reshuffled taking precedence over spending more time on Mars. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe wouldn't be on the shuttle and they had already talked about it. Sunstreaker was sick of being stranded on Mars and the only good thing about it this time was Sideswipe pulling the same duty.

In less than two decaorns, they would go to Autobot City and be the first to bond there. Ordinarily, the ceremony was elective. But because he was Praxian and Prowl wanted to keep with their traditions, they would have a public ceremony on the steps of The Fortress. It would be what he thought Blue’s family would want for him and he had agreed. The party afterward would be a brilliant event. Everyone around him had taken it upon themselves to plan it. Everyone who could come would be there.

Two decaorns and their trine would be legalized and permanent. Until death did you part as the humans said. In his case, death didn't usually part a bonded pair. Funny, those humans. They could survive each other. Good trick, he considered, as he listened to the universe for anything out of the ordinary. He didn't hear it.

-0-Far away

They came together at the landing on the ocean's edge, slowly filing into their shuttle to continue. Their journey had been harrowing, fleeing war in their colony while trying to find shelter in any port they could. But every place was just temporary, a respite for a short time and then they were on their way again. Their shuttle filled and rose through the atmosphere as another foreign shore was left behind in their quest for peace and freedom. As they journeyed toward any place and no place, they heard it. A call was captured, one that was made from a place far away in a language they understood.

Their language.

Cybertronian.

Prime.

He was calling them.

'Come to me' he said and they did. They plotted a course and turned their shuttle toward it, placing their faith in the hope that they could reach his protection and the Autobots he would command. The shuttle flashed onward, the twenty-seven civilians and five Autobot soldiers inside settling in for the journey with the first glimmer of hope they’d felt in many vorns of running.

Prime was waiting for them.

They would come.

-0-Med Bay

Ironhide walked into the bay relieving the soldiers for the night. Ratchet was in the office recharging with his helm on his arms. Ironhide paused by the door, looking at his Only One with concern. Moving inside, he leaned down to kiss Ratchet's helm, watching as he stirred to look around himself groggily.

Looking up, he smiled, then leaned back to stretch his body. "Ironhide."

"Ratchet. Go and lie down on a med berth," the big mech said. "Don't go recharging at yer desk. You'll get a krick."

Ratchet looked at Ironhide. "Krick?"

"Krick," Ironhide said tugging at Ratchet's servo, pulling him to his peds.

Ratchet moved forward to slip his arms around Ironhide's neck. "Krick."

"Krick."

"Sounds sexy."

"Krick?" Ironhide asked with a grin. "How does that sound sexy?"

"Just does," Ratchet said as he leaned against Ironhide limply.

They swayed together a moment.

"You find **that** sexy and **Arbutus** you make fun of," Ironhide said hugging Ratchet as his arms went limp at his side in gathering fatigue.

"It deserves mockery," Ratchet said.

"You need to go to rest," Ironhide said. "That sparkling needs its rest, too."

"I need to watch over Starscream."

"How's he doin'?"

"So far, so good. His self repair systems are making some headway on the lesser programming. I just don't know about his memories and his ability to think logically."

"Sounds like we might have a Seeker who has no idea of who he is and can't tell you about it," Ironhide said gently walked Ratchet toward the small room in the back with berths for doctors on call or passing through. Pushing Ratchet onto one and lifting his peds up, Ironhide leaned down to kiss the medico. "Recharge. I'll call you."

"I'll let you," Ratchet said relaxing finally, falling into recharge almost immediately.

Ironhide walked out to the main bay pausing beside Starscream. He was a hideous sight. There were a good dozen cables plugged into his processor which was still exposed. Energon lines ran into several major lines and machines beeped quietly as screens charted his progress.

He looked at the figure of the Seeker, at the beautiful array of colors now clear on his chassis, the crimson especially vibrant. It had taken Ratchet a long time to remove the grime. Ironhide wondered why he had. Maybe he did it to pass the time as he waited. Maybe not. But it was a huge improvement over the dull gray that had been forced on them by the Fallen.

Turning away, walking to another berth, Ironhide hoist himself up to sit and wait for the night to pass and morning to come. Ratchet had said they'd have a clearer idea in the morning. He hoped so.

Oddly enough.

-0-The Seekers

They stood outside the new barracks watching the sky and the stars overhead. It was their new sky, their new home and for the first time since they came to the Autobots they felt safe and relaxed.

Thundercracker sat on the bench in front of the barracks leaning back against the wall. Skywarp joined him looking at the gun turrets that were dark forms against the muted light of The Fortress. "I wonder what will happen?" he asked.

"He'll either survive or he won't. His spark is muted," Thundercracker said quietly.

"But its still there," Skywarp replied.

"We can't know what he'll be like if he survives," Thundercracker said.

"No," Skywarp replied.

"We'd be dead if we had stayed."

"I couldn't stay one more orn," Skywarp replied. "Even when he was gone, Megatron was still there."

They were silent for a moment. Then Thundercracker looked at Skywarp. "Don't mention Megatron for any reason," he said quietly.

Skywarp nodded. "Agreed."

They sat together looking at the sky, watching the two moons of Mars traverse the darkness. Somewhere in the universe Megatron still lived and as long as that were true none of them were safe.

  
  


Chapter 100

  
  


-0-Med Bay

"Don't move."

Ratchet stood beside the berth where Starscream lay. He had just replaced his helm plates and the plugs and wires were retracted and gone. The Seeker was swimming toward sentience once more, a slow reboot of his systems beginning. Ratchet turned to Springer who he’d called when Starscream began to reboot on his own. "Get his trine. Quickly."

Springer nodded moving quickly to the barracks that was their new home.

Ratchet holding Starscream down with a servo placed against his chest considered his options. He could have intercepted the reboot and disallowed it. It could have had dire consequences for future reboots or even have caused more loss of data. Or he could allow it to see what happened. He had done all he could do and now it was show time.

Ironhide came through the door and walked to the berth to move Ratchet aside. He placed his own big servo on the Seeker holding him in place more firmly. "He's coming around?"

"He's trying," Ratchet said moving back to watch his progress with an anxious expression.

Behind them footsteps were heard, then Skywarp and Thundercracker walked in followed by Springer who moved to one side to watch the group with a professional optic.

The Seekers came forward pausing behind the two as they looked at Starscream with fear on their faces.

Ratchet gripped Thundercracker's arm. "He's going to come out of this one of two ways. He'll either remember the last thing that happened to him or he won't remember much. It could be that it'll take time and de-fragging to make sense of the mess in his head. Or it might not. I'd tell you better things if I knew them, Thundercracker. I wish I could."

Thundercracker nodded glancing at Ratchet with a wretched expression.

Skywarp walked closer, his optics never leaving Starscream. "Can we hold him down?" he asked quietly.

Ratchet looked at him then nodded, glancing at Ironhide who was watching them both closely.

Skywarp stepped up to take Ironhide's place as Thundercracker moved to the head of the berth taking Starscream's helm in his servos.

Starscream struggling toward sentience didn't know they were there. He didn't hear or feel them. He flew through the darkness in his processor struggling to make his way upward where he instinctively knew that light and freedom lay.

-0-Autobot HQ, Earth

Prowl got the message that Starscream was coming around so he pinged Prime who was in a meeting at the N.E.S.T. HQ. He pinged back receipt and continued the meeting including the three that followed. By the time he reached Ops Center, the picture on Starscream would be more complete.

-0-Nast Home, Houston, Texas

Lydia Nast, thirty-eight, blonde slim, and socially connected paced the living room of their 26 room mansion in the tony Riverbend area. She’d sent the children to school and was waiting for her husband to call her. She was used to him being gone and out of contact for periods of time. That was the business he was in. But this felt off. This felt wrong. Turning with decision, she walked to the phone and called the office to get his private secretary. "Jeannie, have you heard from Bill?"

"Just the e-mail he sends when he's out of contact," she replied. "It all seems in order."

"What about Tom?" she asked.

"He's also sending the proper response e-mails, Lydia. Nothing is out of order."

She thought a moment, then made up her mind. This felt wrong and she would pursue it. "Get me Cole," she said.

"Please hold," Jeannie said as she re-routed the phone to the office of Cole Steward, COO of Intel-Martin and the next in line to step in if things went south.

To Jeannie Nast, things had just gone south.

-0-Med Bay

Starscream on lined his optics and stared at the ceiling, or at least the area above himself without blinking. Light overwhelmed him so he shuttered his optics for a moment allowing them to dial down to the proper reception. Opening them again, he saw color, blue and white and purple and black connected to two shapes looming over him closely.

He struggled upward but fell back weakly. He stared around as his vocal processor struggled to online. His mind was slow, his processes sluggish and he felt fear settling into his circuits, the sparkling electrical charge of panic suffusing him. Then a voice whispered to him, another joining and the sound of it, the softness of it soothed him. He relaxed, straining to look at the shapes which were slowly firming up, becoming mechs.

"He's confused," Skywarp said anxiously. "I don't know that he knows who we are."

"Give him a few," Ratchet said moving forward as he transformed his digits into diagnostic tools. He gently shouldered Skywarp aside and began to put softly spoken requests forward for Starscream to respond to and answer. The Seeker struggled, meeting some and not others before Ratchet stepped back, thinking hard as he glanced at the screens above which were showing the reboot and all the damage Starscream still had.

"Well?" Skywarp asked with fear and exasperation in his tone.

Ratchet glanced at him. "There's a lot of blank spots in the readouts. Some of his systems are not coming online. The diagnostic tells me that his internal repair systems are working on them and as long as they are, he has a chance to reclaim them. They’ll stop when its clear that nothing can be done but for now they're still working. As for his mental capacity, I'd have to test it. For now, we just have to see what presents."

"Can we take him with us?" Thundercracker asked. "He might do well in our company."

"It depends on how this reboot finishes," Ratchet said. "I'll release him to you with caveats if he appears to be able to have basic functions and his energy and functionality are level."

Thundercracker nodded then looked down to watch as Starscream began to relax and look around. "Starscream, can you understand me?"

The Seeker looked up at Thundercracker hearing his voice and finding in it something familiar and his. "I know you," he said, his familiar raspy voice even more so. "I know you."

"You do," Thundercracker replied sadly. "You'll be all right. We're here and we'll take care of you."

Starscream looked at him and nodded, his optics looking around at all the rest of the unfamiliar mechs surrounding him. At least he had the familiar voice above him. At least he had that much.

-0-Joors later

Starscream sat on the berth, his head hanging as he waited for his equilibrium to settle. It made him nauseated to move at the moment but he was told it would pass. He hoped so. Nausea was awful. He’d come to sentience with a lot of damage but he knew where he was, who he was with and was wary. They were with the Autobots and he didn't know how. But Thundercracker and Skywarp appeared to be relaxed and comfortable so he decided to be the same. When they were away, they would talk. Until then he would do what was asked without comment. Until he knew the lay of the land, he would act like this was fine and okay. Until Skywarp and Thundercracker said otherwise, it would be how he would conduct himself.

"I can release him to you to take care of but it’ll be with these monitors," Ratchet said turning to look at Starscream. "Starscream, I'm going to put these medical monitors on you so that if you need attention, if something hurts, bothers or fails we can come to help you. Here," he said handing them to Starscream. "Look them over and tell me if you understand that they're just medical diagnostic tools and nothing more."

Starscream took them looking at them with a critical optic. Thundercracker took them, too, looking at them more for Starscream's benefit than because he felt that there was anything to worry about. Handing them to Ratchet, the medic waited. Starscream nodded and they were attached. One went on his neck plugged into the medical port at the base and one went inside his chassis plugged into an energy node that was critical to the lower half of his body.

"Do you understand what you have to do? Are there questions?" Ratchet asked gently, looking from Starscream to the two other Seekers and back again.

"No," Skywarp said quietly, moving to one side of Starscream.

"I want you to know that if you can't do this then he needs to come back here. If this isn't done right and to the degree it needs to be then he won't recover fully. I hope you understand that not trusting us on this will be costly for him," Ratchet said, his focus on Thundercracker.

"We understand. Thank you, Doctor," Thundercracker said taking one of Starscream's arms.

He stood up swaying for a moment, then with helm held high, Starscream began to walk on his own, his trine mates standing on either side anxiously hovering as he walked to the door. He reached it then paused. Turning around to affix Ratchet with an intense gaze, he nodded slightly then turned back slightly unsteadily to walk out with Springer in tow.

They watched him go as they stood together, their thoughts their own, then Ratchet leaned against the berth. "This is going to be strange."

Ironhide nodded. "You're going back now, right? First Aid can manage this stuff. You can go home and rest, right?"

"I think so," Ratchet said as he began to gather up the instruments he had used, putting them on a tray nearby. "I'll brief him, then he can come to manage the after care. I think it'll be a good thing for him, managing a tough customer on his own."

"You don't need the aggravation," Ironhide said agreeing. "You need to think about the sparkling and not Seekers."

"First Aid can rebuild and repair the other Seekers, too," Ratchet said. "Good experience."

Ironhide nodded then began to help. The two returned Med Bay to its normal condition.

First Aid arriving at Autobot City two joors later was briefed about the Seekers and their condition. It was nearly midnight on Mars when they left, flying on Skydive as some of the Aerialbots returned and some stayed behind. Megatron was out there and without proof of his complete demise, they had to make themselves as invulnerable as they could.

-0-A shuttle, on its way

They knew how to share and make things last. They knew they would make it. The signal of Prime was stronger and constant, a beacon of light in the darkness of their lives. Sparklings slept, younglings played with homemade toys and the adults did the business of making the ship fly. The soldiers did, too. They were exhausted but they were also hopeful. Safety was beckoning them onward and they flew through the night time of space with the expectation of hope.

-0-The Seekers

They sat on the bench and looked at the sky. Starscream sat between them looking upward. They were safe, well treated and felt better than they had in eons. That they achieved this in the bosom of their enemies was not lost on them. They would help Starscream get back on his peds. Then they would ask him to make the oath with the Prime. When he did, when they were clear that they weren't a threat, then perhaps he would let them fly again. Perhaps they’d be able to fly together, soaring in the skies where they truly belonged. Prime would let it, they were sure.

He was the Prime.

He wasn't Megatron.

Starscream leaned on Thundercracker's shoulder, his servo linked with Skywarp. He leaned on them, illness suffusing him but in some ways he felt better than he ever had. All he wanted to know now, all that mattered at the moment was the location of Megatron and when he would step out of the shadows to strike him down once more.


	5. Part Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> see part one, continuous story

Chapter 101

-0-Ironhide

He sat on a rock at the beach pulling a datapad from subspace. It was a selection of downloads on sparking and sparklings, a collection that Ratchet facetiously referred to as 'Sparking for Dummies'.

/... **ha ha** , Ratchet … let's see what this says .../

"Carriers in the last two decaorns become very empathetic and interested in the comings and goings of close family and colleagues."

/... oh oh .../

"Carriers find themselves in the throes of emotional empathy and as a consequence the mechs and femmes in which they come into contact will find a great deal of attention paid to their emotional and spiritual well being as well as intimate aspects of their personal lives."

/... this gets worse and worse .../

"Many of them will find overtures of support in their personal lives, attention to the love lives of friends and family as well as advice given freely. For the well being of the carrier, it should be taken and followed to the letter."

/... slag … Ratchet is frag on wheels when he isn't broody … I better warn everyone .../

"It’s often a result of this unusual relatively misunderstood phenomenon that mechs and femmes hook up and begin the happy march to bondedness themselves, all of it brought about by a happy carrier following their programming."

/... the frag **you** say .../

"The mate of the carrier has a special role to play. They should give **unwavering** support and attention to the carrier. A **happy** carrier means a **happy** sparkling. It’s often the case that the creator **usually falters** in their role as **unwavering help meet** to the carrier. This can lead to unhappiness and emotional spikes, lows and highs that can happen in the blink of an optic leaving chaos and tears in their wake, something that the carrier **cannot** control. **Ever**."

/... I hope Wheeljack hasn't filled up his equipment room … I'm going to be hiding for a while .../

"It’s completely understandable that the erratic behavior of a carrier is met with frowns and harrumphing but it should be understood that a happy carrier **needs** support and it should be **unwavering** **.** **Unwavering**."

/... slag .../

-0-Ratchet

He stood in their quarters, that part of his broody programming already kicking in. He felt a bit tired. After all, it wasn't long after taking care of Starscream and he’d also begun Operation Frag with the Slagger, IE, make Ironhide putty in his servos. Sitting in the Martian Med Bay with time on his hands, he had downloaded a number of medical tracts for Ironhide who had asked for them. He wanted to know more about the last two decaorns, so Ratchet complied.

Sort of.

He had added a flourish or two among the dry data … actually, he’d edited the **slag** out of it and given it to Ironhide.

Ironhide was getting too comfortable. His part of this was too easy. Ratchet was doing all the work and would go through all the pain and screaming. He might as well have some of the comfort and Ironhide should have some of the pain and screaming. So his most beloved Only One was somewhere sitting on a rock perhaps reading the 'data' that he’d downloaded. It was amusing, Ratchet thought as he mentally rearranged their quarters this way and that, preparing for the addition of a sparkling in less than twenty days Earth time.

-0-Prime

Optimus Prime gulped as he scanned the datapad that Ironhide had shown him. Since no one on the base had a fragging clue about sparklings, carriers and their own mechanical mechanology they hadn’t known that the carrier had such an ordeal. He told Ironhide so.

"What the slag? **Ratchet** has the ordeal? What about **me**? I have to recharge with a volcano that can go off at any minute. Where's the 'poor fraggin' Ironhide?'"

Prime smiled slightly, quashing the greater part of his amusement in deference to Ironhide's 'suffering'. "I am sorry, Ironhide. It is just that no one knows what this process is. Ratchet is trailblazing for all of us."

" **Right up my aft, too!** " Ironhide said.

"Do you want to go on a long assignment for a while?" Prime asked innocently.

A glaring optic met that remark. "And leave Ratchet to run amok alone?"

"Good point," Prime said with a snicker. "It appears that you are going to do something for all of us that the humans mention from time to time."

"What's that?" Ironhide asked, not mollified.

"Take one for the team."

-0-Ironhide grumping down the hall, his sensors spread wide for a moody broody carrier, his most awesome Only One

/... ha ha … take one for the team … ha ha, Prime … wait until you have to do this … I wonder … who would be the carrier? … Prime is so touchy-feely and Prowl is so … so … tight aft about things … I wonder … better not say a word to Ratchet … next thing you know Prime'll be knocked up and broody … I didn't **need** to think that .../

-0-Rec Room

Ratchet sat in the rec room sipping an energon as he finalized a few reports about the Seekers, all of whom were in abominable condition. A long term program of regeneration and recuperation was already beginning under the supervision of First Aid who was going to be staying on Mars until Starscream stabilized more.

That left him in charge of his own time, no witnesses about, so he considered a remark that Ironhide had made to him about Wheeljack. It had been a 'floater', that is, a remark Ironhide had heard 'Jack say half in the bag and it’d finally floated to the top of his processor from the Pit where it’d been hovering.

"Don't **ask** **me**. I'm **all** alone."

It had stuck in Ratchet's processor and he meant to do something about it. Wheeljack was his closest friend outside of family and he wanted him to be happy. He didn't sound happy. Oh no, he didn't. Therefore he’d have to work two major operations at the same time. Operation Frag with the Slagger would have to run alongside Operation Get Wheeljack a Snugly or as he thought in shorthand, Special Case: Yenta-Claus. For the terminally nerdy, clueless, dorky, or shy, Yenta-Claus would be there working his magic and sowing happiness with every trod of his ped.

What Ratchet didn't know was that part and parcel of his condition was a small, infinitesimally small kernel of truth about carriers being interested in the happiness of others. The odds that his condition, his interest in fragging Ironhide and 'Jack's sorry existence could come together in the same place at the same time probably generated the impossibly small odds of 98%.

Give or take 5%.

After all, we **are** talking about Ratchet.

Sitting back, considering the roster of available mechs that he might hook his friend up with he got down to the hex nuts and grade 8 bolts of the situation. Wheeljack, inventor, sweet hearted kind mech, tall, colorful and braver than he looked was a very cute soul. He was many things ... scientist and soldier ...

… sailor man and **spy!**...

/... no more Turner Classic movies for me .../

Who could he leave his best friend with … he found himself ruminating over the fan fiction that someone had shown him thinking he's be scandalized because it had him humping the twins.

At the same time.

If they only knew what a daredevil he’d been before he got yoked to Ironhide they wouldn't have been surprised by how he not only wasn't scandalized but that he had an account on the same site under the pseudonym 'Bend-Over-And-Cough'.

The fan fiction had Wheeljack with Perceptor a lot. Then there were the kamikaze fics with Sunstreaker. For a moment Ratchet felt jealous since **he** was usually paired with the yellow Lamborghini. And the red one. At the same time. Plug and play. Spikes and valves … **valves**. **WHOO HOO!** And that didn't count the number of times he was beating them with hammers when there was no medical reason for it.

He loved fan fiction.

Back to Wheeljack …

This would take care and attention. Yenta-Claus was going to have to do his homework. Juggling two major campaigns wasn't out of Ratchet's experience. He didn't begin one with the intention of losing. Ironhide had to pay for his free ride and insolence while it was clearly obvious that Wheeljack had to get 'faced. That was the beginning and end of everything for the next two weeks.

That and getting the quarters ready for his perfect little sparkling.

And breaking to Ironhide that he would have to help feed it.

Old Big Tit was going to have to learn a lot of things he was going to be doing, Ratchet thought with a grin. Then he winced. Tit was such a stupid word.

Rising to toss his energon cube across the room to land the shot, he walked out with a light step in his peds. Lurking nearby, watching with a gimlet optic, Ironhide tried to parse the moods that had flitted across Ratchet's face. As he did, he came to a singular conclusion.

He didn't have a fraggin' clue.

-0-At the quarters later that evening when Ironhide had no reason for not coming home and no one was around to hide him

"Over there."

"All right." [lift, walk, walk, place]

[Silence]

"No. I think it would look better over there."

"All right." [lift, walk, walk, place]

"Now, move this over there and bring that over here. Let's see how it looks."

"All right." [lift, walk, grab, hoist, stagger, stagger, stagger, place, pick up, walk, walk, walk, place]

[Silence]

"I don't know. What do you think, Ironhide? I'm concerned about flow."

Optics as big as truck tires take in a room with a berth, a table and two chairs, a couch and a television that’s mounted to the wall. What is there to think? (Ironhide thinking)

/... I better get this right .../ "I'm concerned about flow, too, Ratchet." /... there … that's safe … I hope .../

Ratchet turned his back to Ironhide so he couldn't see the barely suppressed hilarity on his face. Turning back after gathering himself, he began again.

"I think that should be there, your slag pile over here and this there."

"All right." [lift, walk, walk, yank, ***** **grab*** , pick up, trudge, trudge, trudge, place, drop, ***** **put*]**

"On second thought ..."

/... oh slag .../

-0-Senior Autobot Staff Meeting, Autobot HQ, Diego Garcia

Ratchet walked in followed by an exhausted Ironhide and nearly everyone in the room stood up looking at Ratchet with concern. Ratchet slowed, then walked to his chair as two mechs jumped up to pull it out. He glanced around then sat, watching as cubes of energon were put before him.

Prime who was watching with a datapad in his hand glanced at the big medico with optics filled with concern. "How are you today, Ratchet?"

"Fine, Optimus," Ratchet replied. "Thank you. Ironhide is the walking wounded today. He moved furniture last night."

Everyone looked at Ironhide who sat in his chair looking back with a glazed expression on his face. He raised a servo and waved his digits slightly.

Prime grinned back and the meeting started with everything being remarked, discussed and the like that was on the agenda. By the time the meeting concluded, Ironhide was recharging, sitting up with his optics seemingly online and everyone was taking bets on when his helm would hit the table.

Chapter 102

-0-Wheeljack's lab

Ratchet came in and sat watching down in a desk chair as Wheeljack did some esoteric math for a 'refractory device' for Autobot City, whatever that was. Ratchet watched him, the excitement in his audials, the sweetness of his delight and smiled. Then he put on his yenta hat and went to work.

"So, 'Jack, when was the last time you 'faced?"

Subtle, thy name isn't Ratchet.

Wheeljack looking up with audial wings flashing stared at Ratchet with surprise. "Ratchet?"

"I was just checking as your doctor and as your friend."

"What brings this up?" Wheeljack’s optics narrowed. "This isn't some tactic in your prank war with Ironhide is it?"

"No," Ratchet said, grinning at the wariness before him. They never learned. He was an unstoppable force of nature. “It’s been over a while."

" **What**?" Wheeljack looked at him with surprise, then frowned. "He **told** me that it was still going. He hangs out in here, Ratchet, hiding from you and frankly it's beginning to bug me. He's not small and this space isn't big."

"Ah," Ratchet said. "I'll speak with him."

"Good," Wheeljack said relaxing a smidge. He returned to his work.

"So when?" Ratchet asked.

"I refuse to answer."

"You can't remember," Ratchet posed.

"What? **RATCHET**! You need to go somewhere and be useful."

"Wheeljack, if you could face anyone in the garrison here and on Mars who would it be? Bond and not, it doesn't matter," Ratchet said opening a page in his processor for details. A mech couldn't complete their mission without intel.

Wheeljack looked at Ratchet, studying him closely. "What's up?"

"What's up? … I was just thinking about you, 'Jack, what a great mech you were and how you need someone to be on your side."

" **You** are," Wheeljack said obliviously.

"Not on your side, 'Jack. **On. Your. Side**." Ratchet looked at him pointedly. "You know, someone to be with you, to talk to you in the middle of the night, someone to 'face with when you want to climb the walls. Like me. Right now."

Wheeljack looked shocked. "I don't want to 'face you, Ratchet. You're bonded."

Ratchet stared at Wheeljack, considered his sheltered life, timed it by the amount of times he probably **did** 'face in his whole life with anything but his own hand or a light socket and found that his total was in the negative numbers. It made him want to go 'awwwww'. "Wheeljack, I mean someone else. Don't you want to be with someone and have all the joy and happiness that Ironhide and I have?"

It was silent as they stared at each other.

"Okay, let me rephrase that. Don't you wanna frag when ya want to? Don't you want to know that there’s someone out there who’ll love you as you are, put out and put up with you and be there no matter what?"

" **Sure** I do," Wheeljack said.

"So ..." Ratchet prodded.

"I … I have my work and there’s friends and the like."

"Wheeljack, I'm going to do you a solid. I'm going to find you a partner." With that, Ratchet got up and walked out the door with his freak flag flying high.

Wheeljack who was sitting on his chair with his spark wilting under the sheer tonnage of his fright wondered how his life made it so much farther down in the Pit than it usually was.

He also wondered what a state of matter had to do with getting laid.

-0-Ironhide

He shot up the firing range, chatted up the soldiers, wandered through Ops Center, peeked into Med Bay before running like a gazelle out the door once more, hung out on the beach until red messaging told him that his solar capacity had been met and exceeded, walked back to Ops Center, shot the breeze, walked to the beach and back, then hid out with the soldiers until mid afternoon.

T-minus 19 and counting, he thought. Nineteen more Earth days until he got his sparkling and Ratchet got his marbles back. Would he make it, he wasn't sure but he knew no little sparkling was ever desired more than his and the sooner the better.

-0-Ratchet

He sat in the rec room with a data pad in his servos. He was inputting names then going over his impressions about what they would be like with His Wheeljack. As he did, impressions of stories on his favorite fan fiction site filled his mind, stories that he had shamelessly searched out and read for the hoot of it.

The twins were a great pairing, he thought. Ironhide was a healthy mech who liked to 'face and often. Ratchet was born to throw down with the big mountainous wonder and they had a healthy humorous rambunctious 'face life. In the stories, he was either getting or giving it with the twins, with Wheeljack or with Starscream.

Apparently, the personality types of him and Starscream were compatible, those that were developed by writers that could only guess about them and make their own conclusions. Of course, he and Ironhide along with Sideswipe and Hound **had** been in public view.

That had helped some but it was terribly amusing to read the rest anyway. Few of them wrote him with Ironhide. Apparently, 'old people' didn't 'face or if they did it was sort of 'growly Ironhide' and 'snide curmudgeon Ratchet' mercy 'facing.

Sort of pegged us, Ratchet said to himself, snickering as he crossed off the mini-cons.

Hmmm. Wheeljack and Bumblebee. That would be a great story. He scanned the website and found none with a cursory search. So he decided to write one.

The Virgin and The Other Virgin by 'Bend-Over-And-Cough'

It was dark when the explosion occurred blowing up the lab where Wheeljack worked. It rumbled through the Ark ..."

/... Ark? … how did they know that as a name for a space ship … Ark … well, I will bow to convention .../

"It rumbled through the Ark. Prime getting up off of Prowl called out, **"Autobots! What the frag?!"**

Ratchet snorted. /... good thing I have an alias … I'm going to post this .../

Prowl, his normally ice cold demeanor melting away under the heat of his Prime tugged at Prime's finials.

/... I wonder if Prowl can reach Prime's finials? … he's got eight feet on Prowl … I wonder how they face? … it's bad enough with Ironhide being nearly five feet taller than me … I can't imagine that remaining three feet … although Ironhide would have some slag to say about it … 'three more feet of mech, **ba-bee** … can you handle it? .../ He snorted. /...who was hiding in Wheeljack's equipment room, **ba-bee**? … where was I? Oh, right. Prime's pronging Prowl … /

**“Snort!”**

Prowl tugged at Prime's finials. "Don't go, Optimus. Red Alert is on duty and I'm horny."

So Prime lay back down crashing them into overload as Prowl's horn went off echoing through the now empty halls of the Ark.

**“TOOT! TOOT! TOOT!”**

Ratchet snorted and sighed. "Prowl, the little mech who could … little toot … I don't think I can look you in the face now, Prowler." Then he continued.

Ironhide was at the lab, standing outside afraid to enter. Behind him carrying a med kit, the valiant Doctor Ratchet risked life and limb to go into the inferno, shoving Inferno aside to pull Wheeljack out by his finial audials. /... probably would turn 'Jack on .../ He gave him laborious mouth-to-mouth. When he was clear on what a great kisser the scientist was, Ratchet began to doctor him back to health.

Ironhide who had a secret crush on the handsome, brave and clearly out of his league medico rushed over and knelt. "Need any help, Doc?" he asked clearly hoping it was in the kissing department and not because Ratchet had two arms to reattach and needed someone to hold one.

"No, Ironhide. I was born to do this," he said. "You might go and get Wheeljack's blushing bride, Bumblebee. He might take a shock to the sight of his bond laying in pieces on the ground even though you **know** I’ll save him."

"I do know that, Ratchet, because you're the best doctor in the world. I’ll go and tell Bumblebee." With that, the big mech turned … make that pirouetted away and disappeared back into the Ark.

He ran down the corridor passing Prime's quarters, the sounds of rising overload rising. Pausing to get an audial full of something he didn't get often, laid, that is, he rushed onward with great reluctance arriving at the quarters of Wheeljack and his blushing bride, the mini-con and all around smart aft, Bumblebee.

He knocked. "Bumblebee? Open the door. It's Ironhide, your adopted older brother who once knew your genitors but only 'faced one of them because the other one was **way** too short and I couldn't find them in the berth or they'd have gotten the doom of Unicron, too. Me."

The door opened as Bumblebee stepped out, his chassis nearly touching the floor from the sag. He was with sparkling(s) and his gut was distended to manage the fifteen little tumblers that he and Wheeljack had spawned on some dark night (of the soul). "What?" he asked barely staying upright.

"Wheeljack got blowed up."

Bee yawned. "Okay," he said.

"You better get there. Let me help you."

"Oh. Let me … I'll just transform and follow you out at eighty miles an hour like everyone apparently does **in the Ark**." At that, he transformed, turning himself inside out to accommodate their fifteen sparklings.

Ironhide, his face a mask of barely contained nausea winced as a yellow mom van finally crawled together from Bumblebee's parts.

The little mom van with a sparkling peering out of each of the windows drove off with a backfire as Ironhide watched the demonic little car with great loathing. Even though he'd been a mom van himself in another life, he at least had the decency to have tinted windows.

Then he transformed and drove off to watch the Nobel Prize winning sainted and much admired Doc Ratchet make it all better with Wheeljack.

TBC (Probably)

With that, Ratchet posted it to his account, Bend-Over-And-Cough and turned back to finding a fuck buddy for Wheeljack.

-0-Later that night

Just for fun, Ratchet checked his account at the fan fiction website and found that his story had 75 comments, all of them positive and all of them exclaiming for more of the story. Looking at it with a grin, Ratchet resolved to continue and hopefully at the end, he would actually be able to pair Wheeljack up with someone.

Truly.

**"Ratchet!"**

He looked over his shoulder smirking at his only one lying on the berth waiting for him.

"Get over here, mech. Don't make me come over there and get ya."

With a grin, he turned off his datapad then the lights, stumbling over to where the berth now stood to lie down in the arms of his great big wonder bunny. "Goodnight, **mom van**."

"Good night, ya yellow aft slagger."

  
  


Chapter 103

  
  


-0-In the rec room

Ratchet sat sipping his morning energon as Ironhide watched him with one optic even as he read the datapad in his servo. "A carrier may appear irrational, even bossy but that's to be expected. You as partner should be **completely** understanding and supportive because of the fragility of the carrier at this time. Tears are possible including stamping of peds and a general need to punch something big and black- ..."

Ironhide looked at the statement again. Then he looked at Ratchet. Then the statement. Then Ratchet. Then he got it. Crushing a smirk that started at the back of his aft and ended somewhere around the vicinity of Alpha Centauri, he looked at his Only One with the deepest most profound admiration. For three solar cycles he’d been tippy-toeing around his bond watching every single thing. He continued to read.

"... punch something big and black named Ironhide. Someone who’s completely awesome but such a slow reader that I predict that it’ll take about five solar cycles to reach this part. **Boo, Ironhide!"**

He put the data pad down and considered his options. Part of what he read was true, that was obvious. Part was smart aft slag from the Master™. But what was slag and what wasn't? He didn't really know. And to make it all go Ratchet's way, First Aid was on Mars and he was the only one with the kind of skills to sort the wheat from the chaff. So he would have to wing it.

Somehow.

"Ratchet, how do you feel?" Ironhide asked with his optical ridges crunched just so with deep profound concern.

Ratchet looking at him with puzzlement for a moment remembered. "Uh, I'm having a bit of anxiety but nothing more, Ironhide. You look worried. Are you alright?"

Ironhide looked away to hide his growing hilarity behind a mask of near tears. "I … I just think about what a hero you are to me that's all."

Ratchet looked at him seeking the telltale signs. His helm was turned away so it was hard but it appeared that Ironhide was slipping into a maudlin state.

In the middle of the rec room.

In front of mechs.

Being a fragger in the rec room was **his** thing. /... what are you up to, Ironhide? … / "Do you want to sit on my lap?"

Ironhide looked at Ratchet pulling every skill he had to school a broken-hearted expression on his face. His little pug nose even quivered. Along with his lips. Along with his deeply controlled funny bone. "You're making fun of me? You aren't the only one afraid here, Ratchet. I feel fear, too."

Ratchet looked at him then reached for his servo but Ironhide jerked it away and stood up. He walked away without a word. He didn't look up, he didn't pause, he walked right out the hangar door and crossed the tarmac. He continued to the fence, stepped over it and walked to the rocks at the beach. Then he bent over and laughed his aft off.

-0-Ratchet

He looked at the door as a feeling of unease swished through his tanks. He considered that he'd misread Ironhide. He shrank back into his seat and considered astonishingly that this was perhaps the first emotional spat that they’d ever had. They didn't fight. They sparred and argued together but making it personal and emotional, no. They didn't fight.

Perhaps they just did, Ratchet thought. Maybe he'd hurt Ironhide when he was sad and worried. They weren't exactly working on their fifth sparkling here. This was all new territory and Ironhide was scared. He'd misread the big lug. He'd taunted his fears. He felt suddenly as wretched as he ever had as he rose. Standing beside the table uncertainly for a moment, he hurried forward. Before he could leave the hangar Bumblebee ran up and handed him the data pad Ironhide had been reading.

Ratchet took it and thanked Bee, then walked outside looking around for Ironhide. A femme was outside talking to another so he walked to them asking after Ironhide. They pointed to the beach and he thanked them. Walking swiftly toward the fence and the ocean beyond, he began to run. As he did he started to subspace the data pad. Then he looked at it. Then he halted.

**"Boo, Ironhide!"**

Ratchet stared at it with a grin. Then he chuckled; then guffawed. Then he stopped altogether. He considered his next move. Subspacing the data pad, he walked after Ironhide to find him standing on the beach looking out to sea. Catching up to him he paused beside him contrite and sorrowful as he slipped his arms around Ironhide's broad chassis.

Ironhide shrugged to step away, holding his head down as if tears were going to fall. They stood together silently and calculatingly, one sure he had the other and the other sure he was had. Neither were entirely sure.

I’m sure.

Then Ratchet burst into tears, crying loudly into his servos.

Ironhide jumped as the sound startled him, then turned to stare at Ratchet with shock and surprise. He rushed to Ratchet to gather him up in his arms. He held Ratchet tightly, pulling his peds off the ground.

Ratchet for his part was enjoying Ironhide's sweetness and concern so he continued to wail, suppressing with effort his overpowering need to chuckle.

Ironhide swayed as he patted Ratchet's back.

It was at impasse.

-0-Wheeljack

He peered out of his quarters looking this way and that, then ran down the corridor to enter another lab where Perceptor was working. "Psst."

Perceptor looked up and around. "Wheeljack?"

"Percy? Can I speak with you a moment?"

"Of course, Wheeljack. Come in."

And he did.

-0-On the beach

Ratchet sat on a boulder with Ironhide next to him, his arm around Ratchet's shoulders. They sat together as Ratchet wailed.

Ironhide was clearly out of his element. He looked at Ratchet, at the forlorn medico of his dreams and realized he’d never had a fight with him. Ratchet and Ironhide didn't fight. They sparred, they played, they argued but they’d never in all the eons of their partnership had a real fight. He felt as wretched as he ever had before and he didn't know what to do. "Ratchet?"

Ratchet wailed on.

"Ratchet, don't cry. I'm sorry." He thought a moment. What was he sorry for? He didn't know. He just knew he was. "Don't cry. You're my hero, you know."

Ratchet looked at Ironhide, sniffling a bit. "And you're mine."

Ironhide as an 'awwww' moment overtook him leaned in to kissed Ratchet softly. As he did, someone took his picture. Then he kissed Ratchet again. Then again and again. Then he sat back stymied.

Ratchet smiled as he looked at him. "You're a great kisser."

"I know," Ironhide said grinning slightly. "You better?"

Ratchet nodded. Then he smiled. "Boo, Ironhide."

Ironhide looked at him, stared at him for a moment, then the sea, then glanced back at him again. Ironhide felt the smile begin in his aft and work its way to the top of his finials. He felt it rise above him and orbit his head. Then he rose and offered his servo to Ratchet. "You **are** my hero."

Ratchet stood, looking up at him with a soft expression of love that he gave only Ironhide. "And **you** are mine."

They walked toward the fence and the hangar beyond. As they were crossing the tarmac, Ironhide paid attention at last to his internal sensors. That was when he registered that their moment of fun and make up kissing was not a private one.

-0-Perceptor's office

"And that's why I'm so frightened."

Perceptor stared at Wheeljack with sympathy, feeling his pain. He'd been warned by Ironhide that Ratchet had 'lost his marbles' and that since he was a single non-aligned mech that Ratchet would probably be slagging out wedding bells in the smelter out back if he didn't watch out. His solution was to hide in his quarters and lab with his sensors at full blast. Apparently, he wasn't going down the alphabet because Wheeljack had the first measure of Ratchet's do-goodism. "I can see that, Wheeljack. What are you going to do?"

Wheeljack's finials flashed a pale pink as he considered what he would say and then he did.

Perceptor considered Wheeljack's finials and was glad he didn't have them, handsome as they were. He flashed pink internally but agreed. It was the only way to survive a full on press of Ratchet's do-goodism. So they agreed.

-0-Prime

Ironhide walked into Prime's office with metaphorical smoke coming out of his audials.

Ratchet walking behind him leaned on the doorjamb with concern on his face.

"Prime, we have a problem," Ironhide said.

Prime looked up at him, considered having him take a number, then sat back to fold his arms over his chassis in an unconscious display of self protection. His optics were divided. One was on the raging black inferno in front of him and the other was on the emotionally unstable medico standing beside him. "Do tell," Prime said weakly as he braced himself for anything.

-0-Lennox, Epps and Graham

They came when called and arrived by hummer, stepping out in front of the conference room to walk inside. Ironhide sat in his usual place with Ratchet standing behind him rubbing his shoulders.

Prowl slid the ladder over for them to climb, then sat down beside Optimus to wait for them to traverse the table and sit on their benches. Ratchet had taken them down from the shelf where they were stored along with other furniture for other humans when they came and at last, everyone was seated.

Lennox shifted uneasily as he looked at their grim faces. "What's up?"

Prime leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table. "We have a problem," he began.

-0-Lawrence

He hurried away from the beach running as fast as he could go and when he reached the four wheeler that he’d ridden over on, the only one they had left of the two they started with thanks to Springer, he drove madly to the barracks. Walking inside, he went to his quarters and took down the suitcase that he kept on a shelf in the closet.

Sitting down to review the quality of the photos, he smiled then reached into his suitcase to pull out a thick book. He'd brought it along for just such an opportunity knowing the retail value of intimate photos of the robot monsters that the world was going to be seeing. It had taken a lot of time and a lot of balls but he got his money shot. Opening the book, he inserted the camera into it, the space that he’d carved out before he’d even arrived. Then he closed it, patting it with a smile.

A phone call to the company and he’d have a ride out, taking with him all his photos and the Holy Bible that they were currently resting in. Putting the book back into his suitcase, he put it on the closet shelf and walked to the kitchen to get a beer. His heart was racing and his smile was continuous as he considered his future and its much, much greener hue.

-0-Lennox, Epps and Graham, Conference Room

"Holy crap."

Prime leaned back. "Concise and to the point."

They sat a moment in appalled silence, then Lennox shifted a bit with the feeling of pain between his eyes. "May I ask a few things without causing offense? I hope you know what you mean to the three of us but there's a few things I'd like to ask? If you don't mind."

Prime looked at Ironhide who looked up at Ratchet who shrugged. "Ask."

Lennox nodded. "You know we're aware of relationships among you. We don't have a problem with them that some do among us. You aren't us. What you are and who you are to each other is the way it's supposed to be, right?"

Prime nodded.

"But I have to ask something... you **kiss**?" Lennox asked as he looked at Ironhide who began to frown deeply.

Ratchet smirked and began to knead his shoulders harder.

"Yeah, some of us. Most of us. We do." Ironhide frowned with a gathering look of disgust. "Ratchet told me about what you and your femmes do together. Can't say I get it. Can't say it doesn't make me wince myself."

Lennox nodded. "I know Ratchet is going to have a sparkling in a couple of weeks. By the way we're just thrilled to know and will keep the secret. But it's … strange."

Ironhide leaned forward. "Not for us."

Lennox nodded. "I know. Our people are going to freak out, some of them. Some won't. They know you're not humans and you have your own ways but this will be all over the place and it won't be good. Did you see anything at all that might help figure out who this might be?"

"Hound is tracking the culprit," Prime said. "When we know that we can do something about this. I do not want it to leave the island before we nail the one responsible. I’ve asked Air Command to hold all flights out of here for a couple of hours and they have agreed unless there’s an emergency."

"You **know** it was a merc," Epps said.

Graham nodded. "Who else?"

Prime nodded. "Who else indeed?"

-0-Hound and Trailbreaker

They stood at the cliff side overlooking the beach where the Autobot youngling soldiers have most of their parties. It wasn't too hard to track because the spy didn't try to hide their traces. They walked toward the base following first footsteps, then the tracks of a four wheeler. By the time they reached the Administration Building for the base the traces were gone. But the modus operandi was clear. It was a four wheeler.

Trace that, get the culprit.

They stared in the direction the tracks had led. They stared at the merc barracks. Then they walked back to the Autobot hangar and Prime.

  
  


Chapter 104

-0-A few moments after the meeting

Autobots began to drift down to the firing range where the booms and blasts began in earnest. By the time it was truly a noticeable problem there were 20 Autobots firing. It rattled the windows bringing attention from the civilian and military workers. They came to the windows and the tarmac to watch and comment. Sailors from the docks, civilians from offices, marines and soldiers along with airmen and women gathered to watch, comment and enjoy everything.

It drew out the mercs, three of whom were newly arrived and they watched with as much fascination as the others. It reminded them of what the Autobots were and what battle for them must be like. The barrage continued, then it stopped as the Autobots turned almost as one to walk back slowly and calmly to the hangar.

Everyone watched them, too, mystified as to the matter at hand. When they were all out of sight in the hangar, everyone began to walk back inside to their jobs. Then they stopped as they saw Optimus Prime emerge followed by Ironhide, Ratchet and three of their own human soldiers. Pausing together, groups of humans gathered to watch as the small group of soldiers walked toward the merc barracks. As they watched further, a hummer carrying Colonel Fulton rounded the corner of the Administration Building heading toward the firing line.

Something was up.

-0-Optimus Prime

He was tired of the mercs, of Daniels and others like him. His soldiers went out to battle, got hurt to the point of brink of death, some of them, yet they still didn't get respect. Some of the people they had to deal with had no idea of what they could do and what a barrage was like. So he showed them.

His soldiers, those without age but long in experience and full-on adults grizzled with battle had shown them a tiny snippet of the life experience even the youngest among them could boast. They’d all endured. They’d all survived and kept coming back to defeat their enemies but that was being disrespected. It rankled him more than he thought it did, triggered by the innocent moment between Ironhide and Ratchet.

The fact that some of the civilians they dealt with were homophobic and applied their prejudices to the Autobots who didn't even meet the standards for that prejudice was galling. They were androgynous. They didn't bother with gender divides unless their presence among aliens who did was necessary. They didn't have genders but alluded to them to make others comfortable. They were ancient, experienced and mature in their outlook upon life and the differences that made it interesting For them, anyone could be sparked. Anyone could create and anyone could be a carrier.

Gender was irrelevant in a species that could create life without even participating in the process. Any number of the Autobots had been granted at the Well and in theory had no individual genitors. There was Vector Sigma and the Matrix as well. Yet, here they were being exploited by someone who had no honor.

He was sick of it.

Prime reached the merc barracks at the same time as Fulton. He stopped before it to look at the humans there who were backing up warily. "Get Daniels. **Now**."

They were frozen in place a moment, then one merc nodded, running swiftly inside the building. They stared at each other across a great divide, both sides, that would never be bridged.

The mercs glanced at Fulton, Lennox, Epps and Graham and saw no support among them. After a moment, the merc returned with Daniels walking passively behind him.   
  
Daniels halted in front of the group, glancing around himself before folding his arms across his chest as an expression of irritation crossed his face. "What do you want now?"

Prime quashed the urge to step on the human, bending down instead to loom into his presence. "I want the pictures."

Ratchet who was watching the mercs closely, saw one move, flinching slightly at Prime’s words.

Daniels walked toward Fulton. "What's he talking about? What pictures?"

Fulton eased out of the hummer then walked to Daniels. He leaned slightly into his space. "One of your goons took pictures of two Autobots. Pictures are forbidden here and a part of the contract agreement for your goons to stay here is to obey all the rules. I want the camera **and** the pictures."

Daniels looked at his mercs as the men stared back at him impassively, if nervously shifting from foot to foot. He looked back at Fulton. "I guess you're mistaken." He then turned to walk back to the building.

Fulton becoming enraged at the impertinence of Daniels turned to his men. "Major Lennox, I want that barracks turned inside out."

Lennox nodded as the three soldiers stepped forward to enter the building.

Daniels turned on Fulton with outraged effrontery. "What are you doing? You can't go in there."

"Read the regulations, Daniels. I can throw you all in the brig for this. Them, for breaking the rules and you for obstructing."

"You wouldn't **dare** ," Daniels said stepping back defensively. "I'll have your job."

Fulton who was fully incensed stepped forward. "I can. And as for my job, you little bastard, you couldn't fill my shoes."

Lennox, Epps and Graham walked past the mercs and entered the building as Daniels stepped away to pull out his phone.

"Give it a rest, Daniels. I already have permission from the State Department. I have friends, too," Fulton said. He stepped closer to the younger man, leaning into his space. "You're an entitled little shit, I'll give you that. Your old man can't save you from obeying **my** rules. The rules are **damned** clear. No pictures of the Autobots. If you can't follow them, then get your ass on a plane and get off my base."

"For how long?" Daniels asked.

Fulton stared coldly and silently, understanding completely the threat.

"For how long is this your base?"

"For as long as I want it, you little bastard," Fulton replied.

A shout from the door caught their attention as Graham walked out with a black book in his hands. He walked to Fulton and handed it to him.

Fulton glancing at Daniels with something short of triumph, opened the Bible in his hands and drew out a camera. "Well?"

Daniels shrugged, his jaws clenched tightly with irritation.

Fulton turned the camera on and saw pictures of the Autobots. There were pictures at the beach of Ironhide and Ratchet as well as pictures of the Aerialbots, the gunner, Bluestreak, the Lambo twins, and others including the mini-cons.

"Who does this belong to?" Fulton asked as he looked at the mercs who were staring warily at the commander.

No one spoke.

Lennox walked inside again. He returned with a suitcase, the tag clearly delineating who it belonged to. "It says Lawrence Dobbs."

Everyone looked at Lawrence who stared back pale and defiant. "So what. Anyone could have put it in there."

"Anyone?" Fulton asked with derision. He looked at Lennox. "Arrest him and throw him in the brig.”

Daniels turned toward Fulton as he considered speaking, then watched as Lennox gripped Dobbs none too gently. Then Daniels walked inside the barracks without a further word.

The mercs watched him, then glanced at the others before walking as one back inside as well.

Fulton looked at Optimus, then the building. "I'm sorry, Optimus."

"It is not your place to apologize. But I am grateful that you could resolve this. I would hate to be responsible for another barracks being reconstructed," Prime said with the ghost of a grin.

Fulton laughed, then walked to his hummer. "I'll have this man sent home and return the camera and its contents to you as soon as the ink dries on the paperwork."

Optimus nodded. "Thank you, Colonel."

Fulton climbed inside his hummer and sped away leaving the soldiers, Lawrence and the Autobots behind. Prime looked at Lawrence who stood stone faced and silent in Lennox's custody. He knelt to look closer at the merc. "Why?"

Dobbs shrugged. "I don't hate you."

"Then why?" Prime persisted.

"It could make me rich. I could retire and not work another day in my life. Pictures like that are worth a great deal to the outside world. They want to know things."

"It is in the best interests of the survival of your species that we are here and that some things remain private. How can you jeopardize that for financial gain?" Prime asked.

Dobbs looked at him, considering the mech before him. "It's not like Todd. It's not personal with me."

Prime felt his anger rise, then he tamped it down. "It is with me," he said quietly, then he rose to watch as the soldiers dragged him with them to incarceration.

Ironhide walked to Prime pausing by his side. {What sort of slag can Fulton expect?}

{He better get none. After all, Fulton is not the one in contact with the Decepticons}

Ironhide grinned. {Promise me you will let me be there when you tell him}

Prime nodded as he relaxed slightly.

Ratchet walked to Ironhide, then looked at the barracks before turning to Prime. "Me, too," he said with a grin.

They walked back to the HQ.

Lawrence would sit in his cell for two days, then be unceremoniously shipped off Diego Garcia for the United States. He’d then be unceremoniously dumped from the payroll of Intel-Martin for getting caught being stupid.

No one would miss him.

For now.

-0-Later, in the rec room

They stood in the doorway watching the room, wondering how they could get to the energon and back without being intercepted by Ratchet who was sitting with Ironhide, Bumblebee, and Hound at one of the tables. They glanced at each other then decided to put their self defensive plan into action.

Gathering up their courage, they walked together to the dispenser and got energon. Looking for a table with a clear view of Ratchet they walked to it and sat down. Then Wheeljack, looking at Perceptor at the far side, leaned forward. "Percy, you need to sit next to me."

Perceptor, long an academic and short a romantic jolted. He nodded. "Oh. Oh, right, Wheeljack." He slid his cube across the table and rose to take a seat next to Wheeljack. "Is this better?"

"Much," Wheeljack said. Then he scooted his chair closer to Perceptor until their arms nearly touched. "This is even better."

They both looked up and noted Ratchet's laser guided optics fastened upon them. They both swallowed hard and leaned against each other at the same time to touch shoulders.

Ratchet staring harder leaning forward slightly as if to get a better view.

They swallowed again, glancing at each other with something akin to fright. Then Wheeljack moved his knee to touch Perceptor's.

Percy looked at him, startled, then Ratchet. Then he pressed his knee against Wheeljack.

Ratchet still stared.

-0-Ratchet

:Ironhide:

:What?:

:Promise me you won't look:

:At what?:

:'Jack and Percy:

[Silence]

: **YOU WEREN'T SUPPOSED TO LOOK**!:

:What? You're losing me here, Ratchet:

:Percy and 'Jack … I think they're getting together:

:How can you tell?:

[Silence]

:Ironhide?:

:What?:

:You're such a buzz kill:

[Pause. Access database. Download. Clue] :Thank you, Ratchet. I try:

-0-A few minutes later

Perceptor and Wheeljack paused outside of the science equipment closet that faced the hallway and was shared between the two labs. They looked at each other.

"Do you think we fooled them?"

"I don't know, Percy. Ratchet looked kind of feral."

"He did. I don't understand those two. They scare me. I think you're brilliant, 'Jack, to beat them at their own game."

"Ratchet’s cunning but we have so much processor power between us that if we team up Ratchet **can** be defeated."

Perceptor nodded then remembered something. "'Jack, I want you to see something that you used last time you decided to synthesize plastic into bio sludge. It's in here."

Perceptor opened the door go step inside.

Wheeljack joined him and as they discussed the small tool lying on the top shelf, the door closed. They turned to look at it.

Wheeljack slid past Perceptor and took hold of the knob. It didn't budge.

Then the lights went out.

It was silent a moment, then a jostle was heard. "Sorry, Percy. It's small in here."

"I know, 'Jack. I apologize for jostling you."

"That's all right."

It was silent a moment, then another jostle was heard.

"Percy."

"'Jack?"

"Percy..."

"Oh , ... 'Jack."

Outside in the corridor with a smug look of utter triumph on his face, Ratchet the Feral, Ratchet the Cunning, Ratchet aka Yenta Claus chalked up one more victory. There were two less lonely bots in the world if the sounds inside the closet were any indication that the communications gap between the two had been bridged. Eventually someone would find them and after cutting the lock and electrical system from the micro-charge he’d given it from one of his talented multipurpose digits, they would be rescued.

But not now.

Ratchet walked away with a smile. /... processor power be slagged … cunning trumps smarts every time .../

Chapter 105

When thou seest an eagle, thou seest a portion of genius; lift up thy head! - _William Blake_

  
  


-0-Autobot City, Mars, Seeker Compound

The sun was up and the day was beginning. Starscream had awakened early and had walked to the doorway to stand half in and half out, staring at the colors of the morning sky. Thundercracker was nearby watching him ready to explain something at the merest frown of confusion, to help him with something he couldn't grasp as of yet. His frailties were holding him hostage and it was painful in the extreme that this force of nature was so feeble. The doctors had said he would become better and they hoped so.

All of them on both sides of the aisle hoped so.

"Do you want to sit in the sun?" Thundercracker asked quietly as he walked up to stand beside Starscream.

"I want to fly," Starscream said softly. "Why can't I fly?"

"You're still weak and recovering," Thundercracker said as he slipped his arm around the Seeker. He waited for the shrug, for the hothead to rise up and assert himself but he didn't. He seemed to welcome the support, the warmth of another’s touch. He was not himself for that reason alone. Only in intimacy did he suffer gentleness before, as if laying his guard down in the quiet of their company was the only safe place. Now he seemed to seek out and welcome comfort, doing so without the shameful sense of weakness that he always associated with empathy and intimacy outside of the berth.

For any number of reasons the idea of softness, of something that wasn't hard and brittle was anathema to him, leaving him vulnerable to attack from the one who was the source of all their suffering. He couldn't give, he couldn't submit. Megatron exploited that. He exploited weakness, so Starscream was hard. He was hard until he shattered, his injuries and insufficient nourishment combining to break him. The idea of it rankled, his weakness, illness and confusion. They were the enemy, too.

"I wish to fly," he said simply. He looked at Thundercracker, his optics searching him for deceit, for the hidden agenda that everyone in his life for so long always seemed to have. "I wish to fly."

"I will see to it, Starscream," Thundercracker said holding the Seeker with his servos, his gentle touch steadying the weaker mech, holding him still in his confused agitation. "You're only a few orns away from almost dying."

"He's near isn't he? I look for him, waiting for him to find me."

Thundercracker pulled Starscream into his embrace, the misery of eons of beatings, fights, blame and failure pressing down upon him. Starscream didn't pull away, he didn't take issue. He hesitantly tightened his arms and lay his helm on Thundercracker's shoulder. "Tell them I need to fly. Megatron can't catch me in the air. Will you do that?"

"I will, Starscream," Thundercracker said quietly.

Standing behind him with a grim look of misery on his face, Skywarp listened. He glanced upward watching the sun warming the air around them and the sky putting on a spectacular color display. He wondered if one morning he would look up to see Megatron. He stepped back into the shadows of their barracks, a cold frisson of fear coursing through his spark.

-0-Ops Center, Autobot City, Mars

He waited as Springer finished a task. When he was finished, the big green and yellow Wrecker walked to Thundercracker as the taller Decepticon looked down at the Autobot impassively. "You wanted to see me?" Springer asked.

"We would like the freedom to fly," Thundercracker said quietly. "We need to fly."

Springer agreed. "I know. Starscream isn't up to it is he?"

"He asks for permission to fly. I don't think he's ready but the moment he is I'd like him to know he could."

Springer considered that. "Does he remember me?"

"He hasn't spoken of you," Thundercracker said hesitantly. "We didn't allow him to harm you."

Springer looked at the big Decepticon, then took his arm to pull him to one side. He looked at Thundercracker with hard optics measuring his veracity. "What can you tell me about that?"

"Starscream was very ill. He was obsessed, as if he needed an enemy with Megatron gone."

"Where is he?"

Thundercracker shook his head. "I don't know. He was there when the Fallen fell, getting treatment and then assigning blame. He beat Starscream nearly to death then left. We don't know where he is."

"You would tell us if he came back …" Springer began eyeing the Seeker darkly.

Thundercracker nodded even as insult informed his face. "Starscream expects him, too. He wants to fly so he can't be caught. In the air, Megatron could never catch him."

"What happened then?"

"He captured you and was going to spark merge. He hit you with a null ray and was on his way when we staged an attack and diverted him. It took three blasts to bring him down, then we left leaving a comm device for you to use."

"You and Skywarp?"

Thundercracker nodded. "We cannot let Starscream fall that low. Megatron broke him. He was not himself."

Springer was silent a moment. "I hope you don't expect a thank you from me."

Thundercracker grinned slightly. "No. I don't."

Springer grinned slightly back. "I'll ask Prime."

"Soon?"

"Soon."

Thundercracker nodded then walked back to the door. He slipped through it to disappear. As he did Springer walked to the comm station to put a message through to Prime.

-0-Med Bay on Diego

"Stay away from blunt objects. I'm tired of putting your sorry aft back together," Ratchet grumbled at Bee who had, while dragging around the island with Sam and his mother, rebounded into a boulder. "You fragging mini-cons aren't invincible."

Bee smiled at Ratchet who was almost his ‘mother’ given the years and dings of life on the hunt. Slipping down, he limped out the door with Ratchet's optics watching him as he went. Looking back at the mess, Ratchet picked up his tools and walked to the back rooms where he put them away. As he did, he found he had nothing to do. There were patrols going out and coming back, Autobots coming and going to Autobot City. Here he was stuck on his aft pulling shifts in Med Bay fixing mini-cons who needed a balpeen hammer to the noggin.

He sighed then walked to the corridor heading for the Rec Room and company. It was mid morning and mid shift teams in the field and troops inbound from Mars were expected at regular intervals. It was a slow day and he felt the good of it. They didn't have too many of those kind. Best to kick back and not jinx things.

-0-Not so far away

They had traveled and traveled, stopping for energy for their shuttle and to synthesize energon for the passengers. They had a small capacity so they shared what they could and did without the rest of the time. The signal message was stronger and they were getting closer. They needed that. Their journey had been arduous and the younglings among them needed to know that this was not their life.

The five Autobot soldiers worked in seamless shifts flying the shuttle. Beyond the stars ahead was the source of their hope. Beyond the stars ahead was Optimus Prime and his Autobots. All they had to do was make it.

-0-Rec Room

Ratchet sat in the Rec Room, his peds on a chair and datapad in hand. He was writing another epic inspired in part by feedback from his first posted online story, 'The Virgin and the Other Virgin'. Considering how slow things were he felt he had time to explore his literary side. An update to the Wheeljack/Bumblebee story and then a new one, 'The Sexy Doctor and the Mom Van' would test both his typing ability and gag reflex. That one, 'The Sexy Doctor and the Mom Van' would be his magnum opus, the one immortalizing his great love, himself. Oh and that other guy, whatshisname … Ironhide.

He grinned.

-0-Cosmos, Autobot City Airfield, Mars

He waited at the airfield watching as streams of cargo were going out. Seven replacement soldiers, a line of homecoming soldiers stood nearby. He was busy, had company and even in the space runs he was connected to the Aerialbots and to the mechs at Autobot City. Life was good and he wasn't lonely any longer.

Sunstreaker and Sideswipe stood in line, their gear bags lying at their peds. Their shift at the colony was concluded and they were coming home. They were glad because the next night was New Years and the beach party was going to be huge. Everyone who wasn't on shift would be there including humans. The seven soldier femmes from the Army and Air Force would be there, too. They were even expecting the Senior Autobots and the kids. It would be great. Every scrap of wood, every loose pallet had been scavenged and stacked at the beach.

The line shifted and the last cargo was on loaded. The soldiers grabbed their gear and moved forward to enter the hold to settle among the crates filled with energon. The last one was in, the hold door closed and Cosmos rose happily into the air moving upward into the vacuum of space once more.

-0-Rec Room, nearly a joor later

Bluestreak entered the Rec Room and spotted Ratchet. He smiled as he walked over to sit with him. "Hi, Ratchet. How do you feel today?"

Ratchet smiled. "Good. You?"

"Sunny and Sideswipe are coming back today," Blue said. "Its been so long and we’re hoping they’d be there for the beach party tomorrow night. Are you coming? Its going to be great. I asked Prowl to come and bring Optimus. Jazz and Mirage are going to be there and also Hound, Trailbreaker and all four kids. I hear that the femme soldiers are going to be there and even maybe Colonel Fulton."

Ratchet smiled. "I'll drag Ironhide."

"And Wheeljack and Perceptor, too, if you can. They just look at me like I'm crazy when I ask them. I don't think they get out enough. They're really nice those two."

"They are. They're just too nice for their own good," Ratchet said glancing over at the door as the sound of a shuttle landing drifted in. "I hear Cosmos, I think."

Bluestreak rose with a smile. "I have to go. I hope you come, Ratchet."

"Count on it, Blue," Ratchet replied watching as Bluestreak walked to the hangar door and stopped a moment to watch something Ratchet couldn't see. For a second or two, the youngling soldier watched something, then he was swept up by Sideswipe. He rolled up dropping his bag to grab Blue to kiss him senseless. He set Blue down, grinning broadly only to be bumped aside by Sunstreaker who dropped his bag and picked up Blue.

Sunny rolled away, leaving Sideswipe standing by himself with two bags. He glanced back to his frowning face and laughed loudly. Sideswipe scowled, picked up both and skated off to follow, the three disappearing down the road toward the barracks and quarters beyond.

Ratchet grinned, glad to see the youngsters back and pleased at the happiness that so many had achieved because of the first landings, their first sojourn here. They had come together, the four of them following Bumblebee's signal. All five of them had suffered and worked harder than they should have but now it was paying off.

There was hope for families here, for young soldiers to make plans for their life and find love. There were allies and sparklings, friends and space to live. There was a planet nearby that had the hope of them all including those who were coming. He considered the message that had been received days ago, one that was coming from a shuttle filled with refugees.

"We heard you."

That was all they could retrieve. The rest, garbled and static-filled was hopeless. But the best wasn't.

"We heard you."

Ratchet looked at his datapad smirking at the title of his magnum opus. Tomorrow night, he would drag his 'mom van' to a party on the beach that would celebrate the human's new year. And as they celebrated for the humans, they would be celebrating for themselves.

  
  


  
  


Chapter 106

  
  


  
  


-0-Mid morning, New Year's Eve

The shifts had changed and the Martian mechs were back. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker along with the younger mechs were down at the beach readying the wood pile for the bonfire. Wheeljack and Perceptor had decided not only to come but to have fireworks. That had been heavily vetted by Prowl and all seemed to be in order.

"There are going to be children there," Prowl said, his three little mechs and their darling femme foremost in his processor. "We can't have anything that will harm anyone, 'Jack, or remind them of something they heard or saw before being found."

Wheeljack backed by Perceptor agreed and worked on their bundles and spires with even more of an eye for safety.

Prowl grinned, happy that the mechs and little femme would have fireworks. They’d always had fireworks on important days in Praxus.

Prime discussing a matter with Springer over the heavily encrypted comm link between Ops Center, Earth and Ops Center, Mars agreed with the plan Springer had posed. Touching base with First Aid, he also received an update on the Seekers, all of whom were decidedly better physically and emotionally than before including Starscream.

Although that Seeker was still the frailest, still had faulty memory recall, still had post traumatic stress to a great degree, his overall picture had improved. Prime felt relief at that in an odd sense. Starscream was his ward now and he had to help him recover. That he could even entertain such a thought given the past surprised him.

Rising, he walked to the Rec Room. Sitting on chairs chatting together, Rambler, T-Bar and Spirit waited with Prowl and their day care mech, Trailbreaker. A long rotating list of mechs who volunteered to help took care of the children while their guardians were on duty had been formulated and had taken the strain off caring for the little ones while working, too.

Trailbreaker who was holding Silverbow in his lap was on duty today. Walking to the table to sit with his family, Prime let everything go for a while. Right now with them, he was as happy as he’d felt in eons, something he thought he would never be able to know again.

Shortly, he would be going on a quick run to Autobot City and a meeting with Starscream. He would talk to him and get a measure of his disability. Then he would get his oath. Without it given, he couldn’t let the Seeker fly. It was not so much for the protection and security of the Autobots.

It was for Starscream.

-0-At the beach

The woodpile was divided. There was the pile they would start at sundown and there was the pile that would be supplemental. The mechs had stacked up the main one and it was filled with different additions from Wheeljack and Perceptor who were there to set up fireworks as well. Because there were children they’d decided to make the fire colorful. Putting bags of different elements into the stack at different places would insure that the fire would burn with colorful shades all over it. It would almost be like the Christmas tree that they still had up in their play room. The infants loved it so much they couldn't yet take it down.

"This will be fun, Percy," Wheeljack said as he helped Perceptor set up the fireworks.

"I know, 'Jack," Perceptor said smiling back. "This is going to be the best New Year ever."

Wheeljack squeezed Perceptor's arm. "I agree," he said simply.

Sideswipe and Sunstreaker moved this and that log under Bluestreak's direction as they created a place for the femmes to sit and not be harmed. There was an enormous number of mechs coming, everyone in the garrison. Prowl had worked the schedule so that everyone who was on duty would only spend one joor before someone else came to relieve them.

No one would have to miss more than a joor of the celebration and he’d confirmed to Blue that he, Optimus and the little mechs would come. Silverbow and her teddy bear along with her newly legally confirmed genitors would be there, too. It was going to be great, Bluestreak thought with a smile.

Sunstreaker pausing from hefting logs around looked at Blue and smiled, too. For the first time in his life there was another path besides battle. He had Blue. He had his brother. He had a home to fight for again. He was happy.

"How about that one over here?" Blue suggested to the two as they bent their backs to make it happen, lifting the drift wood trunk to the appointed place.

Ironhide standing nearby watched with amusement. /... where were you two when Ratchet was beating my aft? .../

-0-Autobot City, Mars

Springer stood by the gate as Optimus Prime drove up and transformed. He greeted him and they talked together for a while. Getting caught up, informing Springer of the change of staff during the New Year's event that night, they walked inside heading for the main conference room where Starscream, Thundercracker and Skywarp waited. He slowed, getting a grip on the tumult of emotions that filled him, then entered.

Starscream looking oddly small and hollow sat on a chair alongside Thundercracker who was gazing in his direction. Skywarp, too nervous to sit was pacing behind them. First Aid, called to the meeting was sitting nearby watching Starscream intently. They all rose including Starscream, his body frail but his pride and manners intact.

Prime moved to the table and motioned them to sit which they all did, Thundercracker and Skywarp pausing long enough for Prime to sit first. When they all had, Prime turned to Starscream who stared at him with a shuttered expression.

"Starscream, I am glad that you are up and feeling better," Prime said neutrally.

Starscream didn't speak a moment, then he leaned forward looking intently at Prime. "I know you don't I." He stated rather than asked it, putting a pall in the room almost before the words rolled out of his mouth.

Prime glanced at Thundercracker, himself surprised. "You do."

Starscream nodded. "I don't think we were friends."

"No. What do you remember?" Prime asked gently.

Starscream thought a moment, the effort painful. Then he shrugged. "I remember we weren't friends. I think you hurt me once."

Prime considered the many times they’d fought and the mutual toll that had occurred from the encounters. "We were soldiers on opposite sides, Starscream. It was never personal on my part. I preferred peace."

Starscream considered that then nodded. "You did. I remember. You bear the Matrix."

Prime agreed.

"The war... is it still continuing?"

Prime nodded. "It is."

"And Megatron? Does he still live?"

Prime shrugged. "We do not know. I was hoping that you could help us there."

Starscream leaned back with exhaustion evident on his face. "He will come. He always comes. I have to fly. He can't catch me in the air. No one can. Did you know," he said leaning forward, "that I am the best aerialist in Cybertronian history?"

Prime nodded. That was true. No one ever existed who could fly like Starscream. That's what made him so deadly.

"When I fly nothing else matters. Nothing can harm me. I can fly and be free. You grounders … you have no idea."

Prime agreed. "I can see that."

"I want to fly."

"I have to know a couple of things, Starscream. I need your oath."

Starscream looked at Thundercracker who nodded with a gentle expression on his face. Starscream looked at Prime studying him for a moment. "I know you."

Prime nodded. "I know you. You have sanctuary here. You will be safe and cared for here. I need your oath as a Seeker that you will lay down your arms and stay here as a neutral, as someone who will not pick up arms in the war again."

"What if Megatron comes? He will come and hurt me again. He always does. Did you know I took all his beatings without backing down? He never **could** accept defeat so he took it out on me. None of the others were harmed because of me. I, Starscream took them all."

A pang of compassion piercing and bright impaled Prime as he listened. Starscream needed to talk so Prime let him, the expressions of pain and sadness on Skywarp and Thundercracker underlying the horror of what the Seeker said.

"He hurt me in every way possible. There was nothing so low he wouldn't do to me to feel better and I let him. He never broke me, Prime. He never got to me. I never let him in no matter what he did. I beat him every time."

Prime nodded as his tanks churned. "You did."

Starscream looked a bit of his old defiant. "I did. But I know he will come again and I need to be able to fly. I can't let him catch me now. Right now, I'm not strong. I will be again. Then I can kill him. But now he will kill me and I don't want to die before he does. I never did before. Let me fly so I can escape."

"You will always be defended here, Starscream. No one is going to get you here. You have my word."

Starscream considered that. "This fortress is strong. I cannot tell where I am. It doesn't look like Iacon. Is this new?"

Prime shifted. "It's in a new place, Starscream. We are not on Cybertron. We are on Mars."

Starscream mused. "I don't know where that is."

"We do," Prime said glancing at Thundercracker and Skywarp who stared back.

Thundercracker took Starscream's servo, squeezing it gently. "I know where we are, Starscream. You don't have to worry about that. And the Prime is right. We're all safe here. And we won't let him get to you anymore. All of us, the other trine and ours, we've made a kindred oath to prevent Megatron from ever touching you again."

Starscream looked at him clearly struggling to believe. Then he looked at Prime, still clinging to Thundercracker's servo. "If I can fly he can't catch me."

"Give me your oath, the one you can not break," Prime said gently, extending his servo.

Starscream looked at it for a moment then hesitantly extended his own. They gripped and the electrical surge of their personal oaths and that of a Seeker's buzzed between the two. Prime squeezed Starscream's servo then turned his gaze to Thundercracker. He looked ill, strained and sorrowful. Prime looked back at Starscream who still held his servo.

"I **do** know you," Starscream said quietly. "Do I get to fly now?"

Prime nodded. "You get to. But you must live here. We can help you here and take care of you." Prime glanced at First Aid who was watching with a sorrowful expression of his own. "How is he doing? Can he fly?"

"He's improving a little everyday. As for the memories, I'm not sure. Ratchet had to shunt a lot of his functions through other parts of his processor. Some of them are not going to repair. But the flying portions of his processor, they appear to be healing. He may be too weak to do more than soar and then glide but in time I think he’ll be flying well again."

Prime felt ridiculously glad at the news as he stared at Starscream who was looking at Prime's servo which he still held. "Starscream?"

The Seeker looked up, searching Prime's face for answers to memory riddles that filled his processor. "I know you from somewhere."

Prime nodded as he squeezed Starscream's servo gently. "You may fly. But you must not overtax yourself. I want Skywarp and Thundercracker to judge and to recall you if you overdo." He looked at Thundercracker. "Call the base if you are too far away to fly back. Someone will come and get you. I will leave orders. I do not want him to injure himself again. If he can not fly that orn or that joor do not allow it."

Thundercracker agreed. "I've already made arrangements among us to protect him."

Prime nodded. "That relieves my mind." He looked at Starscream. "I hope you continue to get better. Please remember, you are safe here. You have my word as Prime."

Starscream looked at him. "You are the Prime. You have the Matrix. I know you from some place. Were you ever in Kaon?"

Prime leaned closer. "A long time ago. You live in Autobot City on Mars now, Starscream. You are welcome here. You are home now."

Starscream stared at him, still confused. "I'm tired."

Prime rose and so did Starscream, shaky and confused. Thundercracker moved to grip the unsteady Seeker as Skywarp nervously hovered behind him. He steadied Starscream then looked at Prime. "I knew you’d be what they said you are. We won’t disappoint you, Prime. Thank you."

Prime moved aside to allow the three to leave the room. He glanced at First Aid beside him. "Thank you, First Aid for what you are doing. They look better and stable."

"They are. The five are in great form," he said. "They came up to standard specs pretty fast. Starscream is a work in progress."

Prime considered that. "Let me know if you need assistance or any support. For some reason, I want him to get as well as he can."

"It's odd isn't it. I wanted him dead for so long and now I want him to live," First Aid said shaking his head in amazement.

Prime nodded. "Me, too."

-0-Nearing sundown

They came in bunches and singularly, walking toward the light of the bonfire. The femmes had come earlier, dragging more men and women with them. They sat in the area designated for them enjoying greatly the music, company and conversation all around them. Dozens of Autobots were there, the four younglings as well. In the water nearby off shore from the party, there were small boats with partiers relaxing, swimming in the light of the bonfire as everyone celebrated New Year.

Silverbow surrendering her little yellow cup for her pink bear stood with Spirit near the fire admiring the flaring reds, greens and blues that poured out of it and streaked up into the night. The other kids passed around the group by Autobots who came to get them felt for the first time the comfort of a community that would love them and help raise and protect them with their own lives.

The ocean was a dark expanse, the moon overhead shining light across its surface as waves lapped gently against the shore. Bots danced, passed high grade gathered for the occasion, laughing and talking as they relaxed together. Every joor, a pair would leave and another pair would join them as their shift became over.

Sitting in a group, Ironhide and Ratchet, Prime and Prowl, Colonel Fulton and his aide, Jeremy sat together talking about life on many worlds as well as this one. The bots told of worlds that the humans would never know and all the kinds of living things that existed. It was wondrous to think that there were colors in the universe that didn’t exist on Earth or Mars.

Bluestreak danced with Sideswipe, deliriously happy and then he danced with Sunstreaker, the yellow Lambo laughing and whispering into Blue's audials. The evening continued and then the fireworks began.

Perceptor and Wheeljack lit them off and they roared upward exploding to form different things, some glyphs in their language, some forms of a different life from Cybertron, some flowers of Earth. They watched entranced, everyone, as the moments ticked by. When New Year's Eve finally came, the femmes broke into song and everyone settled to listen …

“Should auld acquaintance be forgot,

and never brought to mind?

“Should auld acquaintance be forgot,

and old lang syne?

“For auld lang syne, my dear,

for auld lang syne,

“We'll take a cup of kindness yet,

for auld lang syne.”

They stood and sat, those who were gathered on land and sea, all of them listening to the lovely words of the old, old song and at that moment they became one heart, one spark gathering together in the darkness of a new world, a young tribe and an ancient endangered one.

At that moment, the war was far away, the younglings held close in loving arms, lovers and friends together. Tomorrow, the world would bring what it might but tonight they were one people, one family, one regard, one spark. Tonight, it was good to be alive.

  
  


Chapter 107

  
  


  
  


-0-January 3rd

The plane set down, the ramp doors lowering as vehicles and people vacated, walking and rolling down from the big vehicle. They were returning from vacation out in the world. The sun was warm, temps in the eighties and the rain showers that were part and parcel of this time of year had returned. Nearly ninety degrees everyday, the low temp at night only a couple of degrees less coupled with high humidity and soft breezes made things sticky for humans.

Autobots were less affected.

Lennox traveling from California, a 14 hour time difference from Diego was shot. They’d ridden together, Lennox and Epps changing military transport, sometimes on standby until they reached RAF Mildenhall where they’d rendezvoused with Graham. At that point, they had flown together the rest of the journey to the tiny atoll in the middle of the Indian Ocean.

Walking out, their eyelids weighing several tons apiece, they bumped into Sideswipe, himself out sunning in the warm and humid. He transformed and drove to them opening his doors. Smiling, they climbed inside and settled back, their gear stored in his trunk.

He closed his doors, clicked on his belts and took them on a terror ride around the base at speeds in excess of common sense. Roaring around the merc barracks about three times, he drove to their own and parked, opening the doors wide at last.

They sat a moment gathering their wits then climbed out to retrieve their gear. Lennox grinning in spite of himself patted the red Lamborghini. "Thanks, Sides. That was fun."

A fat chuckle greeted him then the Lambo laid a patch as he revved up, tearing out toward the beach.

Epps rubbing his stomach shook his head. "I could have used that in high school. I could have used it to be cool draggin' around in a frickin' Lamborghini, but not today."

Graham grinned. "I could use some Alka Seltzer."

"You and me both," Epps said picking up his gear.

Lennox following laughed with amusement at the pair. "You two have just announced that you're old."

They entered their barracks and the door slammed behind them as the base went about its business once more.

-0-In Ops Center, Autobot City, Mars

They got a new message from the shuttle and Springer read it with deep interest. There were five Autobot soldiers with the twenty-seven civilians. They were now within reach of the garrison so Springer put out a call to Prime. As he waited he wondered who it was and what new skills would be brought by the traumatized civilians in their care. It would be good. They would be safe here, no longer wandering lost and it would be one more piece of the shattered glass that was Cybertron recovered and put back into place.

-0-In Ops Center, Diego Garcia, Earth Garrison

Prowl got the message and read it as excitement and expectation brewed inside himself as well. :Prowl to Prime:

:Prime here:

:I'm sending you a message from Springer: Prowl said.

A momentary pause to send and it was received.

:I have it. Will be there in a nanoklik: Prime rose and handed T-Bar to Bumblebee who with Judy Witwicky had the watch with the younglings that day. He kissed his kids and the little femme who’d taken a shining to him and walked out, moving swiftly to the Ops Center. Walking to Teletraan II, he stood beside Prowl and opened a channel to Springer. "Prime to Springer."

:Springer here:

"I got your message. I am going to scramble the Aerialbots to go find them. They sound like they could use medical and fuel support as well. Make sure that First Aid goes and we will cover medical from here with Ratchet, Wheeljack and Cosmos."

"Affirmative," Springer said.

"Tell Kup he has command. I want you to lead the expedition. You are going to be leaving the solar well and going out into free space. There could be Decepticons out there and I want someone who can fight them off in charge."

:Affirmative:

"I will get a crew together and send them out with the Aerialbots. Expect to be picked up in a joor. Keep in constant touch," Prime said. "Prime out."

:Affirmative. Springer out:

Prowl turned to Prime and looked up. "Who do you suppose the Autobots are?"

"I do not know," Prime said. "But I do know that our people are coming and we have to help them get here."

Prowl agreed. "I'll let Ratchet know." He walked to the comm station as Prime considered the new need to meet. Sitting down to get the ball rolling, pressing buttons to alert those in play, he gathered together his architectural and construction mechs and set them a new task. Build more shelters for the new mechs and femmes coming in. They would go out with the Aerialbots, the two that were in Diego and join the rest on Mars to work through the day and night to make new quarters ready.

-0-Far away

They received a message, a faint one, and felt a joy suffuse them that was hard to describe. They discussed it, pressing the vessel forward into the darkness, heading toward light and protection as well as assistance and freedom among their own kind.

-0-Sideswipe and Sunstreaker

They mustered their gear as Bluestreak helped them then hustled to Sky Dive pausing before the ramp. Kissing Bluestreak, taking their gear, they loaded up with Hoist and Grapple as the door closed behind them. The big jet bearing a Cybertronian shuttle mode gathered its power to leave. It began to move forward. Joined by Air Raid, Silverbolt, Fireflight and Slingshot, they taxied down the strip then flew off together one after the other.

-0-New soldiers

They’d come the day before, some of them from signatory nations and a few from the United Nations Peacekeeping Forces. Walking to the obstacle course, they watched as Bluestreak, Sunstreaker and Sideswipe hurried to an Aerialbot. They watched as after kissing one Autobot, two others climbed aboard to fly off into the sunshine with four others.

Graham walking among them as he checked his iPhone for messages noticed their astonishment and smiled. It was going to be one of those days.

-0-At the N.E.S.T. Administration Center, “The Cheerful Femmes of the United States Armed Forces™” greeted their leadership upon their return ...

"And we danced and sang 'Auld Lange Syne' and it was **so** much fun."

"They had a **HUGE** bonfire and it was filled with chemicals that made it light up as it burned, sort of like a Christmas tree."

"The fireworks were **AWESOME**! You should have **been there** , Major."

"The younglings are **SO** cute. We got to hold them and play with them. You should’ve been there for Christmas. It was **so** much fun. Silverbow just **LOVES** her bear and she carries it now and lets her fathers have the cup. It's progress don't you see? We even get to **take care of them** an hour a week while their dads work. And Sunny and Sideswipe told us if we ever needed anything, **ANYTHING,** they would be there in a moment. Isn't that just **GREAT,** Sergeant?"

"Did you know that Wheeljack and Perceptor have a thing? They're just **sooo** cute. Both of them are **such** gentlemen and they're just **so** sweet to each other its like watching your granny and grandpa taking care of each other. I **tell you** , Major, I get **tears** in my eyes just watching them."

"You **really missed** a lot of fun. How about making get togethers a recurring thing? Maybe a beach party and barbecue on the ends of months. It **really** raised **my** morale. What do **you** think?"

 **"That's a great idea, Terri!** I'll talk to Bluestreak. I think Bluestreak is the best one to talk to. He's **so** cute and young and he's Prowl's son. **He** can clear it with the Autobot leadership. I think that the Prime would **like** get togethers that build morale."

"I think that would be **awesome**. We can party **on the beach**. Did you know that they actually built up a part of their beach **just for us** , **Major**? They did it so we can be in the mix but not squished. I **love** the Autobots."

"I do, too. I think we need to plan for Valentine's Day. Maybe Perceptor and Wheeljack will have an announcement. **Wouldn't that be awesome**? Did you know that they can make treats out of energon? Maybe I can make a heart shaped mold and they can make treats for the party."

"I want in."

**"Me, too!"**

They gaggled together, then left for lunch leaving Will Lennox, Niall Graham and Robert Epps standing in the middle of the room with all their words and responses still in their mouths as they stood flat footed. They were overrun, unable to get one word in sideways against the femme/mech tsunami that greeted them as they came inside.

"Welcome back, Major." Epps grinned.

"Welcome back, Sergeant." Lennox said with a grin.

“What he said,” Niall Graham said with a chuckle.

-0-Far away

They were tracking a bogey, a shape that was paralleling them as they journeyed onward. Their leader, his optical ridges forming a frown composed a message.

"Incoming," was all it said.

-0-Four joors later at the Oort Field

They received the message and stepped up, flying at the top of their range, a feat made possible by their recuperation and recovery at Diego and Autobot City. They’d been repaired and refueled, rested and recharged, some of them for the first time in eons. Flying the short jolts between Mars and Earth allowed them to be up to this moment and as they streaked away from the solar well of their new home system they had only one goal in mind.

Save the shuttle at all costs.

-0-At the obstacle course with the New Guys™

They worked, trained and ran around. It was hard work in the sunlight but they did it, then took a rest for a short time in the humidity and heat of the day. Gathered around Graham they began to ask The Questions.

"Who were the Autobots that we saw getting on the plane?"

"That was the Lamborghini twins, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker. The Autobot that didn't go was Bluestreak."

"What was that, uh, kissing about?" another asked. "I watched when their ambassador was questioned but he wouldn't talk about that sort of stuff. Said it was taboo. What's the deal?"

"The deal is," Graham explained calmly, "we're on their turf, too. They live here, have an embassy and they're who they're supposed to be here. Their relationships are what they're supposed to be for them. The hardest part of this that you might have to figure out is that they're **NOT** us. They aren't metallic humans. They have similarities but they're totally different.

“They're their own mechs and its going to surprise you how many things they have in common with us as well as different. Don't apply your own ideas of what's right and acceptable to them. The rules for us aren't rules for them and vice versa. They didn't come from here, they aren't us and those things don't apply. As alien as they may seem to you, that's how alien we seem to them.

“But get this straight. They always, **ALWAYS** are professional and courteous to us. They **never** fail to be. And I wish I could say that the reverse was true."

It was silent a moment.

"How do you stand being around all these sweet rides and not want to jump into one and tear off?"

Graham smiled remembering the morning. "It isn't easy," he said.

As they sat around in the shade resting, the Autobot training specialist came into view, walking toward them with his usual savoie affaire. They stared at him in awe, twenty-five feet of hulking menace, armed to the teeth, yet possessing a face like a satanic Kewpie doll. There was no way that anything they’d seen before in picture and television that could prepare them to see him in the flesh or metal so to speak.

He walked toward them like a metallic Tyrannosaurus Rex, the most physically intimidating and obvious warrior on base.

Graham stood with a grin and waved. He walked forward, stepping into Ironhide's servo to rise up to where the behemoth could see him eyeball to optic. They talked a moment then Ironhide put him down. The two waled back to the soldiers who stood respectfully and silently.

Graham reveling in their unease and open-faced awe did the honors. "This is Commander Ironhide of Praxus, personal bodyguard to the Prime of Cybertron, the Autobot Army's weapons specialist and the most kick ass Autobot in the known universe."

Ironhide glancing down with a grin shook his head in agreement. "Boo-yah," was all he said.

No one else could speak for a moment, the charisma of the moment was so overwhelming, then they did what everyone did when they had access to the big mech. They asked question after question after question after question after question ...

-0-Far away

They were closing on their target, pushing themselves to the limit, shrinking the gap between the shuttle and themselves. Going at this rate they would take two full Earth days to be within strike range. They prayed to Primus, all of them, that the shuttle would be alright and the suffering Cybertronians inside would survive whatever might be following them.

  
  


  
  


Chapter 108

-0-Two days later

They reached a point in which an interdiction could be made at last. Silverbolt dispatched Sky Dive and Air Raid in the direction of the sensor reading. They barrel-rolled to the side and streaked off, their weapons online and sensors cast far and wide. Flashing forward, Silverbolt, Slingshot who was complaining loudly about being left out of the 'fun' and Fireflight raced toward the shuttle which was growing on their sensors as they closed the distance.

-0-On a hillside on Mars

They stood together having flown to this spot, the highest place on the plains in which Autobot City could still be seen. Starscream had come along, flying erratically. He was exhausted so they picked this promontory and set down to rest together.

Starscream sat slumped with his helm hanging down almost in defeat Thundercracker moved to sit beside Starscream who leaned over to lay his helm in Thundercracker's lap. "I'm so tired. Why am I so **tired**?"

"You almost **died,** Starscream," Thundercracker explained patiently. "You **will** get stronger. You already are."

"I think so, too, maybe stronger," Starscream replied, rolling over so he could look at the sky. "This is a strange sky."

"It's ours now, all of it," Sky Warp said squatting down beside them. "The Autobots gave it to us."

"The Prime is an Autobot. I remember that."

"He is and he promised. We can stay here and fly all we want. All you have to do, Starscream, is get well. Then we can show the grounders what real flight looks like. Even the Aerialbots can't touch us."

"No," Starscream replied. "They cannot. They try, though. I think I liked a couple of them. Or did I? I can't remember."

"Don't worry, Starscream. We'll remember for you until you can," Thundercracker said, rubbing Starscream's chassis gently.

"It isn't Iacon is it? Or Vos? Or Kaon?" Starscream asked quietly as he struggled in the ashes of his memory to find the past.

"No," Thundercracker said softly. "Its Mars. Its a beautiful place, Starscream. Do you want me to tell you about it?"

Starscream nodded. "I would."

So Thundercracker did.

-0-Far away

The resonance on their sensors began to move away, paralleling their flight as the two Aerialbots sped toward it. It was a single entity of unknown design and origin. They would have to come a lot closer to ascertain what it was but that wasn't the plan. Springer wanted them in between the shuttle and the entity and prepared to engage if necessary.

Slingshot with his usual loudmouthed egotism running wild, nevertheless obeyed Sky Dive as they arced together and began to shadow the unknown.

-0-Autobot City, Mars

They began work on the new quarters. This would be easier. They would tunnel out of the existing structure, make the central corridor longer, then tunnel sideways for secondary passageways. That would provide the necessary framework to dig out living spaces. As they worked, plans were being drawn up on Earth to increase the Med Bay and begin a facility for the younglings. Their population demands were changing and the needs of civilians would have to be taken into consideration.

-0-The soldiers

They were put through their paces, their drill instructor watching them with a critical optic. They listened to the low rumble of Ironhide's voice with absolute attention, absorbing the lessons he was handing them. If they were going to be a part of N.E.S.T. Striker teams, they would have to understand how the Autobots worked, how to work around them and how they functioned as a team. The Autobots already knew what **they** would do. The soldiers were learning how to function without getting crushed or killed.

As they went through their paces, Ratchet walked out to stand beside Ironhide. They watched together as the soldiers showed their prowess as marksmen.

"So, these are the new meat?"

"Ratchet, respect."

"I'm only repeating what **you** said," Ratchet said smirking at Ironhide.

"Not so loud," Ironhide said as he grinned at his Only One. "How do you feel?"

"Ready to drop this sparkling in your lap," Ratchet said as he shifted on his tired peds.

"You and me both," Ironhide said, rubbing Ratchet's back gently. "Won't be long now."

"A little more than a decaorn."

"I suppose you like the arrangement in the cabin," Ironhide said, peering at Ratchet sideways with hope in his optics.

"I don't know, Ironhide. Could be there’s better arrangements. And you haven't moved all your slag to your locker in the armory. That would help settle my processor a lot."

"Done," Ironhide said grinning with amusement at the ‘eternal argument’. "You came all the way out here to rag me on my slag?"

"No," Ratchet said leaning against Ironhide. "I missed ya."

It was silent a moment.

"Are you telling me the truth or is there some sort of angle you're working?" Ironhide asked with a critical optic fastened onto Ratchet's face.

"I can't tell my Only One I miss them without you throwing a rod?"

"Nope."

"Oh."

[Silence]

"What have we come to, Ironhide? What does it all mean?"

"That you need to drop this sparkling and find yer marbles. The mechs are telling me that you're playing something called a 'yenta' with their lives."

"Love, Ironhide," Ratchet said turning to go. "It **will** find a way."

Ironhide watched him go with a smile. "It sure will, Ratchet." Then he turned back to watch the soldiers once more.

-0-Far away

They reached the shuttle in time. Overtaxed from running, it was losing systems and was completely vulnerable. Communicating together, Springer supervised the transfer of the passengers into the hold of the various ships, salvaging what they could of the shuttle and blowing the rest to bits. Signaling Slingshot and Sky Dive to return to their party, they began to fly back toward Mars and home.

As they did, they sent a message to Mars and Earth. Prime received it in the Ops Center of Earth and was struck with shock. He glanced at Prowl then handed him the datapad.

Prowl read it then looked up sharply. "Optimus," he said quietly. "This is good news."

Prime nodded. "It is."

Now they had to wait for two Earth days or longer for the ships to arrive on Mars.

-0-Ratchet

He received word that refugees had been picked up and would be arriving in Autobot City anywhere between two and five days Earth time. Now that they were in convoy, the need for speed was lessened. All they had to do was wait at his end for the new mechs and their families.

He organized the Med Bay for overflow, informing Prime that the majority of the refugees should be handled at Autobot City to lessen the stress of another journey. Anything that was out of hand would come to Earth as a last resort. Prime was good to go because it meant less explanations to the humans who were already asking about the 'training exercises off world' that they were involved with.

He didn't know who the five soldiers were but he was pretty clear that they’d be someone he’d patched up one time or another. There were few Autobots that he hadn't. Maybe they had news about their people elsewhere. Prime's call was paying off and he was glad. The more families, the more sparklings and younglings, the better chance at survival they all had. And it meant the more friends his own sparkling would grow up with.

It was a win-win all around.

-0-Senior Autobot Staff Meeting, Earth, three days later

They went through the daily slag, working over this or that idea and finalizing this or that plan. They talked about the refugees and the five new soldiers but in little detail. Prime was holding this one close to his chassis and they let him. He was the Prime. He had his reasons. And in all likelihood Ratchet would find out anyway and tell the bunch of them.

They sat and shot the slag as they waited for Lennox, Epps and Graham to arrive for the weekly 'shoot the shit' session that they had with the humans. New soldiers were here and they needed to get it all straight.

A horn tooting outside alerted everyone inside and brought a smile to Ratchet's face as he sat across the table staring at Prowl. Prowl, mystified, looked at Ratchet with inquiring optics. Ratchet waved him off and schooled his smile into that little room in his processor stem where all the fun lived.

The soldiers came inside and climbed up the ladder, traversing the table to flop into two more comfortable chairs that Ratchet had taken down from the shelf on their behalf. They all sat and said howdy.

Then Prime began, working through the list of agenda items as Ratchet sat and fiddled with a datapad, writing on the sly his magnum opus, "The Sexy Doctor and the Mom Van". No one noticed, expecting that he was a professional doing something professional instead of being an underdeveloped sparkling working out a post-adolescent itch.

"And so I think we've reached full strength in our squads with this batch. They seem to be good team players and willing to learn. Right, Ironhide?" Lennox asked as he glanced at Ironhide who was leaning back trying to read Ratchet's datapad.

Ratchet for his part was hunched over in his chair, blocking Ironhide's view.

"Uh, right," Ironhide said, jerking his attention back to Lennox.

"Right, what?" Ratchet asked, lowering his datapad. "What did he just say, Ironhide?"

Everyone from Prime to Epps fastened their optical accouterments onto Ironhide who leaned back to look at them warily. "Uh, he said ..."

"Yes?" Ratchet asked, grinning wolfishly at his stuttering Only One.

"He said ..."

"He **said** , Ironhide, that he needs you to move some stuff at the HQ."

Ironhide glancing at Lennox then back at Ratchet with a wary optic looked at Lennox. Leaning forward, confusion firmly in place, he asked "Is that right, Will?"

Lennox glancing at the smirk on Ratchet's face nodded with his own grin. "Yeah, Hide. We have some 'stuff'."

"Alright. When?" Ironhide asked, glancing at Ratchet with a look of triumph on his face. /... ha ha, Ratchet … nice try.../

"Uh, about a half hour from when this ends," Lennox stuttered, impaled as he was on the expression Ratchet gave him.

"I'll be there." Ironhide sat back then glanced at Ratchet, giving him a smug look.

Prime who was biting on his lower lip glanced around. Wheeljack was looking at Ratchet like he could do voodoo, which he sorta could. Perceptor, his servo in a vice grip by Wheeljack looked confused. Jazz was smothering a raucous laugh and Prowl was looking confused as well, glancing from Prime to Ratchet to his datapad agenda and back again. The datapad was his only friend at that moment as he sat in the Ratchet Triangle, lost and alone.

All the others looked at Ratchet with deep admiration including the soldiers and when they all rose to leave, Ratchet got pride of place.

He swished out, his story in hand and new ideas of what to do to a trash-talking little red mom van in the plot he was making up as he went. Ironhide walked out last and no one bothered to inform him that he'd been had. He would find that out later when he moved the pile of boulders and trash behind the soldier's mess hall from where it was to 'a better spot' for the fifth time.

Chapter 109

-0-Ops Center, Diego Garcia, Earth, seventh day

The word on arrival came from far out beyond the solar well. Tomorrow, they would hit the Oort Field. The four hour trip through the solar system to Mars would be next. The journey had taken longer than planned. They were running at slower speeds with heavier loads and hulls in smaller ships filled with passengers. That they were indicated unusual cargo and it was slower going. Two of the Aerialbots had shifted to their Cybertronian modes to accommodate passengers better.

So they did what they did, the Autobots in Diego Garcia. They slipped away a few at a time, others taking the place of some, many making sure they were seen to make it all seem fine and normal. By the time Prowl and Prime walked out to Cosmos, all was ready and the Aerialbots were three joors out. When Cosmos rose into the sky, the Autobot garrison was down to four mechs.

-0-On the sand at Autobot City, Mars, waiting

They gathered, soldiers and doctors standing on the airfield waiting for incoming. Beyond them watching intently were six silent Seekers. Starscream, a terror from the skies for most of the Autobots and all of the refugees watched as well, unclear what was happening but pulled toward the scene by the silent intensity of the crowd.

Prime waited, shifting from ped to ped as he looked up at the sky watching for the lost to return. Prowl standing beside him watched, too. This was long overdue. This was a miracle. This was happening. He was happy, worried and proud.

They all knew the ships were coming before they showed up in the sky. Their sensors read the approach. Their powerful optics saw them in the upper atmosphere. They watched as the Aerialbots materialized, coming in one after another through the clouds in the skies as they landed softly, taxiing toward the crowd who waited nearby.

Silverbolt stopped then dropped his hold door as Springer jumped out, reaching in to help two younglings step down. Behind him, one after another, more mechs came, one sparked with his bond and a single femme. Then Blurr, Brawn, Cliffjumper and Hot Rod stepped off hugging friends who were shocked and delighted to see them. The Aerialbots taxied together to one side making room for Sky Dive.

Prime walked to the hold of Silverbolt and looked inside not finding who he sought. So he walked to Sky Dive who was opening the small hold that he had in his Cybertronian shuttle mode. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker jumped out with a smile, then waited. The last passenger stepped out and looked around meeting Prime's gaze with a smile. "Hello, Optimus."

Prime smiled as he extended his hand. "Hello, Magnus."

-0-On Diego Garcia

The shifts came and went, the Autobot hangar quiet and still. It was oddly cold at the base, the warmth and color had been drained by their absence and everyone waited for them to come back.

Lennox stared at the doors of the hangar which was still open but missing the life inside. Continuing to walk to the Admin building, he wished they would hurry from wherever they were. It was lonely without them here, he thought.

-0-Inside Ops Center, Mars

They walked in with Ultra Magnus marveling at the facilities all around him. "This is amazing, Optimus. You must tell me everything. I've been out of the loop. Then I'll know better how I can help you."

Optimus slowed, then looked at him with a smile. "Just being here, Magnus, that helps me more than you can know."

Magnus smiled then squeezed Prime's arm. "I missed you, too. Tell me everything and I'll tell you what I know about things out there."

Prime led as they walked to the middle table to sit down together.

Prowl leaned over and squeezed Prime's shoulders. "Don't worry about the refugees. I'll take care of it." Then he grinned at Magnus, walking to the door and out into the facility.

Magnus watched him go. "It's good to see everyone. It's good to see Prowl."

"We are bonded."

"Prowl? You and Prowl?" Magnus asked with a smile.

Prime nodded. "Yes."

"Well, **finally** ," Magnus said leaning back with a grin. "Its only taken you two the lifetime of a small star."

Prime grinned. "Arcee is here."

Magnus' expression schooled to neutral. "She is?"

Prime noting a small tel, the faint ghost of a smile on his friend's face said, "Yes."

"Well," Magnus started noncommittally. "That's … uh, interesting news."

Prime smirked then sat back himself. "A lot of our people are here. We just received fifty refugees shortly ago. And now this."

"There are **so** many of our people out there. Some of them are running and some are hiding. They've heard about your call and they're waiting. More than you can know are coming this way."

Prime sobered at the news. "That's why we are building this city. I want a place for them to come. I want to send out teams to find them. Here is the place we make our stand. The line is drawn here, Magnus. Here and no further."

Magnus nodded. "Then tell me what you want and I will do it."

With that, they sat and talked, four joors passing before they got up and Prime showed him Autobot City.

-0-Med Bay

The sparked mech, Gear Shift was about halfway through the carry phase and in pretty good condition, Ratchet considered. His bond, a tall brawny mech called Comet stood behind them shifting from ped to ped. "How is he? Is the sparkling as it should be? We've been short on everything including proper care."

"He's in pretty good shape and so is the sparkling. I'd relax," Ratchet said. He smiled. "You're safe now and you can get back on your peds here."

Comet looked terribly relieved. "I can work. I'm strong and I have construction skills. I can earn our way."

"You're **welcome** here," Ratchet said to nervous the mech. "It's not like we'll throw you out if you take the time to recuperate. Besides, I'm sparked, too, and due to separate in less than a decaorn. My sparkling and yours will be friends. I want your sparkling to be as healthy as mine and so that means the two of you take it easy for a few orns. Besides, this is a cashless society."

Gear Shift smiled with incredible relief. "We didn't expect to get sparked. It happened and then there was so much fear. Do you have a protoform maker here?"

"We have two highly skilled protoform designers, the best Cybertron ever produced" Ratchet said. The relief on Gear Shift's face was startling as Ratchet squeezed his shoulder. "If you go with that mech," he said pointing to Bluestreak who was guiding mechs from Med Bay to their temporary quarters and an interview by Prowl for anything of import. "Bluestreak will help you settle in. I'll make a note for the chief medic of this Med Bay, First Aid, to be in touch with you and keep you on a schedule of check ups to follow the progress of your sparkling."

Gear Shift with incredible relief stepped down nearly sagging to the floor in weariness.

Ratchet caught his arm as Comet took the other one steadying him. "Sorry. I'm just so relieved."

Ratchet grinned. "We know. Can you walk or would you like to lie down here a bit?"

"I think I can make it," he said slipping his arm around Comet. They walked toward the door as Comet spoke his thanks to Ratchet and left with Bluestreak to their new life. He watched them go, then looked at the line. **"Next!"**

-0-The new Autobots

They walked to the Rec Room to sit at a table to down energon one after another. It had been a while and the idea of plenty was hard to fully grasp.

Blurr sat back and stretching his legs began to tell their tale to the gathering of mechs that were off duty and between directives. It didn't take long and the Autobots looked at each other with a grin. Some knew of Blurr, a phenom in the racing circuits before the war. Some knew of Blurr, a motor mouth of such speed that taping what he said and playing it back slower was often done by mechs who struggled to understand what he said when he was under stress or in a hurry.

They were separate individuals. This was the racing phenom.

Hot Rod disappearing with Springer and Kup was someone well known as well, a hot head with potential according to those who knew him best. Springer and Hot Rod were friends and together had left many a tale and wrecked bar behind them. What they would be here and now was anyone's guess. Springer had proven himself and was Head of Security of Autobot City and of the entire planet. It would take time to know what Hot Rod was made of.

Cliffjumper was well known. A hot headed mini-bot with the habit of sticking his ped in his pie hole before things were made clear was nonetheless welcome. Paranoid, bull headed and brash, he was an acquired taste. Bumblebee, Brawn and Cliffjumper had gone off together getting the private tour.

Brawn, small, tough and nearly as strong as Prime was a do-or-die bot who was ready to go at a moment's notice. He wasn't very accepting of anyone who was less inclined to fight and wasn't shy about saying so. A mini-con with a mouth, he was unafraid.

They were added to the roster and planned into the rotation when they were cleared by Med Bay. They would remain at Autobot City. Ultra Magnus, however, would be coming to Diego Garcia.

-0-Prime and Magnus

They sat together talking about everything, about the Diaspora, the location of Metroplex and Omega Supreme. They discussed bringing them to Mars and setting up a network to organize the retrieval of their people. Then they discussed the alliance with Earth and her numerous governments, the treachery of the humans at Intel-Martin and the surrender and subsequent neutral status of the Seekers.

That part had become a point of contention for a moment until Magnus agreed to abide by Prime's decision. A law and order bot, Magnus would have them up on charges and tried if he had been the one to make the decisions. However, he wasn't. By the time they recessed to make a walk through of the facility and check on the new arrivals they had a clear picture between them of what was, what could be and what they would do next.

-0-The refugees

They were greeted and helped by the Autobots, the newcomers who were waiting in lines for processing and medical attention in the company of many of the first wave refugees. Most of those were recovered and had occupations in the complex. Some of them were fully occupied in jobs that were needed and a few of them were already doing things that were secondary to their present condition such as art, youngling care, education. and data collection.

Some were preserving their historical and cultural record. As small as the hard copies were, they worked to expand them with personal first hand participant interviews and the downloading of ships and personal databases into the computer archives.

Twenty-six civilian mechs and one femme made up the new refugee manifesto. They were rescued by the five Autobot soldiers that were taking them toward safety in a rundown town on the edge of nowhere, fleeing Decepticon expansion near their small colony. Among them were two younglings and one sparked mech. Twenty-five adult mechs and a femme of varying ages as well as two younglings composed the exhausted exhilarated group that stood in lines on both sides of the hallway to Med Bay. The two younglings had both genitors and were older than Prime and Prowl's little mechs.

Prime and Magnus entered, walking to where Ratchet stood examining an older mech.

He looked up and grinned. "Hello, Magnus. Long time no see."

"Hello, Ratchet. I hear you're going to separate a sparkling in a few."

"Yeah. Amazing isn't it? You'd be a fool to count Ironhide out on anything I put my mind to."

They laughed and got the short and sweet. The refugees were in good condition, the sparked mech was doing well and if they were given time to rest and energize they would be fit and ready for anything.

They left Ratchet to his work and walked outside heading toward the Seeker barracks. Pausing short of the door, Prime began to explain the predicament that the trines were in and how they needed to escape the surety of Starscream's death by Megatron or a minion. He explained how they had commandeered Wheeljack's lab foundation and used it to build a barracks for the Seekers.

"I'm sure Wheeljack isn't happy."

"No," Prime said with a grin. "He will have to build another one nearby. I wanted it against the curtain wall so that the stone could absorb the shock of whatever he does next that blows up."

Magnus chuckled. "Still at it, I see?"

"He never quit," Prime replied with a chuckle. "Let us go see the Seekers."

They walked to the barracks pausing at the door as Skywarp arose from the bench out front. He recognized Magnus right away. "Prime, what brings you and Magnus here?"

"Just a courtesy call, Skywarp." Prime smiled. "Your paranoia is noteworthy but unnecessary."

"My paranoia is earned, every scintilla. Magnus," he said with a curt tone. Behind him, Thundercracker emerged followed by Dirge and Ramjet. They looked at Magnus uneasily, then Prime.

"What brings you here, Prime?" Thundercracker asked, his voice tense.

"Magnus has arrived with refugees. I wanted to show him the base. That includes Seeker refugees as well. You do know each other do you not?" Prime asked politely.

Magnus nodded, his gaze affixed upon Thundercracker. "We've met."

"In battle," Thundercracker said. "But those days are over. He's told you that he has our personal and Seeker oaths?"

Magnus nodded. "He did."

Starscream hearing conversation came out of the door, noting everyone as he stared at Magnus. "I know you."

Magnus stared at the Seeker noting his wan and seemingly slighter constitution. "We met, Starscream. I'm Magnus, Ultra Magnus."

"I know that name," Starscream said. "Enemy. No humor. Dogged. I remember that."

Prime grinned slightly. "He remembers you pretty well, I see."

Magnus grinned slightly himself. "That he does."

"I flew today," Starscream said defiantly. He held himself straighter. "It felt good."

Prime felt oddly better to hear that. "It will be easier with time."

"That doctor says so," Starscream said. Then he walked inside with all the others but Thundercracker going with him.

Thundercracker stared at them giving Magnus an especially hard optic. Then he walked inside as well.

"They don't change much," Magnus said quietly.

"They are not against us now," Prime said as he began to walk toward the fortress once more. "That is worth its weight in platinum."

Magnus staring at the building for a moment, then followed Prime into the fortress. Behind them stepping into the doorway, his optics on the building beyond, Thundercracker watched them go. Then he walked back inside again.

  
  


Chapter 110

-0-Diego Garcia, Earth, Autobot HQ

They came back in shifts, the leadership first, then mechs who’d gone to help or provide security during the transition of refugees into citizens of Autobot City.

Cosmos doing overtime dropped down to the base and lowered his ramp. They walked down cutting across the tarmac to the hangar. They walked to Ops Center where Prime was updated on the local situation, that is, local to Earth. The email exchange between "High Flyer" and Intel-Martin was on.

Apparently, Shockwave had picked up the cudgel.

-0-The soldiers

The next day, Epps, Lennox and Graham met Ultra Magnus. Having heard about him from Autobot soldiers prior, the mech was not a total surprise. But his arrival was. Apparently, he arrived on Mars as the Autobots were doing maneuvers of some unspecified design. He had come to Earth to join in the effort and he was some sort of 'relation, probably brother' to the Prime.

He was also a huge powerful mech, handsome to a tee and serious of personality, something that rather made the idea of being Prime's brother plausible, though he wasn't. They had lived next to each other in the same tenement growing up in The Jumble, a ghetto in Iacon. They had been friends since childhood and that included the elders of both families.

Sitting around the conference table with everyone present but Ironhide and Ratchet, they talked together about the situation with Intel-Martin and how the new Autobot would be an asset.

"Intel-Martin's internal emails suggest disarray. Nast and his minions are either underground or they’re missing," Prowl said addressing speculation in the group by the soldiers about the situation. "There's also rising heat from his wife, Lydia Nast who feels that the situation is amiss."

"We will continue to monitor that," Prime said glancing at Magnus. "I would like you to undertake that problem. It falls in line with your experience policing the treaties and I believe you are briefed adequately."

Magnus nodded. "I am and will."

"They've been quiet a while," Lennox said. "Any ideas?"

Prime considered that. "It could be a vacuum in the leadership." He looked at the others as he considered telling them the truth about their situation but that would mean letting the cat out of the bag about Mars and it was too soon.

"Starscream … he's still leading the faction isn't he? How can we know if he's gone?" Epps asked.

"We can't," Prowl said cutting Prime off. "We could monitor the linkages in the exchange. He would tip off his servo sooner or later. We caught them once, we can do it again."

Prime agreed. "Very well, Prowl. You and Magnus coordinate the effort together."

The meeting continued and when it broke up Lennox stood and stretched. "Where's Ironhide and Ratchet?"

"Still on retreat," Prime said leaning back. "They will be back later this afternoon."

"Good. The new troops are asking about him and he's missing a golden opportunity to impress them with his all around awesomeness as Ratchet would put it," Lennox said with a grin.

"They'd be well advised to watch the mech behind the mech. Ratchet has him outclassed ten different ways," Epps said standing to stretch.

"He does," Prime said with a grin.

They chatted a moment, then the soldiers left, driving away in their hummer through the hallways and corridors of the facility.

Magnus watched them go. "It must be strange to work in close quarters with such vulnerable and small allies."

"You get used to it," Prime said. "I admire them."

Magnus rose. "I better get on Shockwave." With that, he walked toward the door and Ops Center beyond.

Prowl watched him go, then looked at Prime noting his happiness. "You just placed a barnacle on Shockwave's face."

Prime accessed the correct interpretations and smiled as he glanced at Prowl fondly. "Yes. Exciting, is it not?"

Prowl chuckled and arose. Holding out his servo, he pulled Optimus to his peds. "Come on. Let's go help him." With that, they walked to Ops Center together.

-0-Autobot City, Mars

They sat in the doctor's lounge as Ratchet put his peds up to sip the energon that Ironhide had brought to him. They were nearly finished with the initial medical screenings and were going to be going back to Earth in a few joors.

"Seems a waste since we're coming back in three orns. Hardly enough time to change your underwear," Ironhide said with a grin.

"If I wore underwear," Ratchet said.

"If you **could** be human what would you look like, Ratchet? Besides beautiful."

They sat a moment considering the question, then Ratchet grinned. "You're so cute, Ironhide. To answer your question, though, I'd be tall and skinny. Taller than most femmes among their kind."

"You would. I can't imagine you with hair. That's the strangest thing, hair. But you'd be beautiful no matter what. I can imagine your hair would be yellow."

"A kind of yellow," Ratchet agreed chuckling. "Probably not the shade my scheme is. I don't think I've ever seen a femme with the shade of yellow that I have."

Ironhide agreed. "True."

"What would you look like as a man, Ironhide?" Ratchet asked as he shifted to be more comfortable.

"I reckon I'd be bigger than most men around. Brawnier and more virile. Probably be the biggest, strongest man around." He grinned. "Probably make 'em cry just walking around."

Ratchet grinned broadly. "Well, that's goes without saying."

"I'm glad I'm not a man, Ratchet. I sorta happened to see a few of them in the shower when I was walking by Epps's office and it scared me."

"It did?" Ratchet asked with surprise.

"I don't think there's anything more … odd than a man without his clothes on." Ironhide sat a moment in memory, then looked at Ratchet. "They're so … wrinkly."

Ratchet smiled. "You really hate penises don't you."

Ironhide rolled his optics. " **You** like that word. I wonder about you, Ratchet."

"Well, they have penises and you have a prong. I think that if they ever saw you naked they might run through a wall, too."

"A prong makes sense. But a penis? Is there anything uglier?" Ironhide said with the willies.

"I don't know. I haven't seen one in real life. Maybe I better go hang out in the showers with the soldiers."

 **"No** , you don't," Ironhide said gruffly. "Stay **away** from there."

"They're mechs. I'm a mech," Ratchet said. "I'm a doctor. What's the problem, Ironhide?"

"You're my bond and I have a responsibility to keep you away from odd stuff," Ironhide said grumping. "I don't want you going around looking at naked men or mechs or whatever."

"Jealous, much?" Ratchet goaded with a grin.

"Jealous?" Ironhide said with a smug look on his face. "Of what? Bonded with a doctor and sparked him. What do I have to be jealous of? I **did** my duty."

"Your **duty**?" Ratchet asked laughing out loud. "Sparking me is a **duty** now is it?"

"Sure," Ironhide said with a big satisfied grin. "My patriotic duty to the Prime."

"Ah," Ratchet said grinning broadly. "You sparked me in deference to the Prime."

"Yep," he said smirking self-satisfyingly. "You know **me**. Never said never to the Prime."

"You vet our 'face life with Optimus," Ratchet asked with a smirk.

"Yep."

"Shall I discuss this with him when we get back?"

"Nope."

"Sparkling. ***Little sparkling*** ," Ratchet said. "What would Unicron say?"

"He'd be well pleased," Ironhide said with a snort. "What's not to love, Ratchet?" he asked spreading his servos.

"I can't argue there, Ironhide," Ratchet agreed. "But then you're in a class by yourself. I even hear your pup is going to be a ringer for you."

"That's what I hear, too. I hear his carrier is kinda sweet on me."

"You could say that," Ratchet said with a smile. "But it’d be too small a word."

"Ditto, Ratchet," Ironhide said putting up his peds. "Won't get an argument from me."

-0-Home again

They walked off Cosmos who was making continuous round trips away under the pretense of scouting. Ratchet and Ironhide were the last to leave Mars. Their cover was security and an in depth review of the deep space array that had been launched and placed in the Van Allen Belt past Mars. That this had been done that very morning by Autobot City personnel was beside the point.

They walked in and settled back, waiting with everyone else for three orns to pass. Then they would pack up and go back to Mars, to the Med Bay and the hope that the first sparkling to be born in their new colony would be happy, healthy and ready to begin their sojourn at one corner of the Ratchet and Ironhide Triangle.

-0-Later that night

Magnus stood in the hangar doorway watching the stars of a new sky, one that was safe and secure. Behind him was the remarkable achievement of his fellows, his friends, brothers and fellow Cybertronians. He was aware that many more were coming fleeing despair and hopelessness, heading on the word of Prime for safety.

It had been a long time since he’d felt hopeful. But now he did. It was easy to be dour, to be cold and cynical. It was harder to be otherwise but in the company of Optimus it was almost an impossibility. Optimus had done well, really well. He was happy and honored to add his own labors. Tomorrow, he would apply himself to destroying Shockwave and the Decepticon contingent that was close enough to strike but far enough away to be elusive. They had corralled the Seekers, a singular feat. Now they had to bag the rest. He walked back inside to apply his relentless implacable intellect and personality to make it so.

-0-Ratchet

He sat down to look at his story, at the Sexy Doctor who had fallen in with a broad shouldered smoldering, yet dorky red Mom Van. It was coming along pretty well. Of course, it would take a bit of tweaking. Perhaps a beta, Ratchet thought. Checking his posting website, he picked out a suitable idiot, someone with the strange moniker, "Arctapus" and sent the request. It came back right away. Apparently, "Arctapus" didn't have a life. So it was zipped off to be sliced, diced and julienned.

Ratchet smirked at the possibilities that existed to network out into the real world of great literature with a fellow traveler, someone who probably lived alone and kept cats, loved to drive concept cars in the movie in their mind and probably in reality drive a k-car.

In short, someone just like Ratchet himself. Only without the cats, living alone and driving concept cars. /... Can't drive a car when you **are** one … **snort!** … Ironhide would be all over **that** remark .../ He clicked off the datapad and walked to where his Only One was digging through his slag stacking grenades in one pile and razor sharp blades in another.

In short, another night at Diego Garcia, home to Ratchet v Ironhide of Cybertron.

  
  


Chapter 111

-0-Senior Autobot Staff Meeting, Ops Center, Diego Garcia, T Minus 2 days

The agenda was short, the preparations for the garrison to move to Mars for the bonding ceremony, the separation procedure and naming ceremony for the sparkling main topics.

Ratchet listened with exhaustion infusing his chassis as he leaned against Ironhide's shoulder as the big mech rubbed his back.

Prime looked at Ratchet. "The preparations are all in order?"

Ratchet nodded. "They are. Wheeljack and Perceptor have the protoform made and packed. They’re going to send it ahead of schedule so there aren't any mistakes. 'Jack himself is carrying it over when he goes to check the labs tomorrow."

"And First Aid?" Prime asked.

"He’s been going over the procedure and we've talked about it. If there are any problems, he has options."

"There won't **be** any problems," Ironhide said, his voice low and rumbling.

Ratchet looked at him. "I’m sure there won't be but there is always a need to prepare for any eventuality."

"There **won't** ," Ironhide insisted. "If anything goes wrong, Ratchet, **you’** **re** first. **You** have the priority."

It was silent a moment as Ratchet looked at Ironhide. "You don't need to worry, Ironhide. It’ll turn out just fine."

"I know that but I also want it **fraggin' clear** that if anything happens and there’s a choice between you and the sparkling, you’re the one who gets saved." He swallowing hard. "You know what I feel about this, about this sparkling. But you come first, Ratchet. I **mean** it."

Ratchet looked at him, then leaned in again. "Don't **worry**."

"I’m making it **clear** here and **now** ," Ironhide said. "In front of everyone and including you, Prime. Ratchet is **first** if there's a problem. I want that understood. If there’s a problem **I** become the decision maker about what to do because you won't be able to, Ratchet and that’s what will happen."

No one said anything a moment, then finally Prime sat forward. He glanced at Ratchet who looked at him. "This will be all right. Our people have done it for eons and ages. There are femmes at Autobot City who can come and watch. They’ve already done it."

"Not this way, the femmes," Ratchet said. "They had it the traditional femme way. I'm sparked but that’s a good idea, Optimus. I’ll make sure it happens."

Prime then asked for the good of the order.

The meeting broke up with the silence of the moment so Ironhide walked out with Ratchet's servo in his own. He walked to the Med Bay, towing Ratchet behind him. Entering the office, he closed the door and turned to Ratchet looking down at him with serious optics.

"Ironhide-" Ratchet began, then Ironhide cut him off.

" **Listen** to me, Ratchet," he said quietly. "You **know** what this sparkling means to me. You **know** how much I love him. I would suffer **anything** , do **anything** **or** **be anything** I had to be for him. That’s what he is to me. But it **pales** compared to you. If something goes wrong you come first. I **can't** live in this world without you and even if I had our sparkling to be with me, I know it wouldn't be enough." He looked to the side a moment gathering himself with Ratchet's arms encircling him. Then he looked at Ratchet. "Remember after Denver?"

Ratchet nodded, looking at Ironhide with sad optics as he stepped closer as he listened.

"You said you couldn't continue without me. Well … I can't without you. Even with a youngling that I love so much, I couldn't stay. You and me … we were **meant** to be, Ratchet. That’s how it is."

Ratchet stepped closer resting his helm on Ironhide's broad chassis.

Ironhide encircled him holding him tightly in arms that could crush almost anything into nothingness but were gentle as they held him.

"I love you, Ratchet. It was a **slaggin' miracle** that we found each other and I don't want that to ever be lost," Ironhide said softly.

"I love you, Ironhide. I hope you know," Ratchet said tiredly.

"I do," Ironhide said. "We get a sparkling in about two orns. It's hard to believe."

"I know," Ratchet said. "It will be alright."

"It **fraggin' better be** ," Ironhide said as the fear shadowed his voice.

Ratchet heard it and felt sick, squeezing Ironhide tightly as they stood together.

-0-On the tarmac a day later

They began to leave a few at a time. Twos and threes left, going to the jets and shuttles to board. Lennox, Epps and Graham who stood nearby watching from the shade of the awning in front of their building were used to the idea that they went off by themselves from time to time. They would never tell why when they did. This time, however, Prime gave them a clue.

"We are going to Mars for a religious festival that comes around only once in a long while. We will be taking everyone including the younglings to Mars for it. We will keep in communication with you and we are only forty-five minutes from Earth."

"A religious festival?" Epps asked curiously. "You're celebrating Primus?"

Prime feeling only a small amount of shame at his deception agreed. Of course, bondings and sparkling separations were Primus sent so he wasn't totally lying.

Mostly.

They discussed communications and the protocols for troops coming back if something went awry. Then he told them that they were locking the embassy and no one would be coming or going for the four days they would be on Mars. Then he told General Morshower. That one only took a little bit more finesse but when it was done he was free, clear and all was go.

Gathering up Spirit and holding Rambler, too, he walked with Prowl who was carrying T-Bar to board Cosmos, taking off into the fading light of day toward the 'festivities' that were going to happen at Autobot City on Mars.

-0-Autobot City, Mars

They arrived, moved to the facility, deposited their gear and weapons in the armory and walked up topside to mix and talk, relaxing for the days off that they’d carved out for their celebrations. Lodgings were tight but the single mech soldiers bunked together, squeezing each other in, setting up conference rooms and other areas for visiting Autobots who had bonds and younglings.

Ratchet walked to Med Bay with Ironhide following and when they arrived, Wheeljack, Perceptor and First Aid greeted them. They moved to a back room and in a box on a counter was the protoform of their sparkling. They looked at it, smiling at its tiny cuteness. Ratchet leaned against him, fatigue filling him as he considered that the following morning he and Ironhide would welcome the universe's most beloved sparkling.

-0-That night

Bluestreak stood at the gate staring out at the plain that expanded into the inky blackness of night time in all directions. It was dark beyond, the area looking empty and slightly sinister. Then he looked up to see the stars, the vastness of the universe and felt peace. This was now their sky, their plain and their home.

Behind him, light streaming out of windows and open doors, the community inside gathered to talk, laugh, energize and play. In two days he would be joined in a trine bond with Sideswipe and Sunstreaker and that would be it for him. The end of the road had a pot of gold, he thought. The end of the road that he had no business being on but for Prowl. He looked at the stars feeling happy, fulfilled and peaceful for the first time in a long time.

He felt at home.

-0-Late that night

"You can't recharge?"

"Not really. Go ahead, Ironhide. I'll hold you."

Ratchet lay alongside Ironhide, his body half on, half off the big mech. He lay quietly, his arm around Ratchet whose servo gently stroked his chassis. "Are you ill, Ratchet?"

"No, Ironhide. Just tired and a little anxious to hold our little mech."

"You and me both," Ironhide said quietly.

It was silent a moment.

"Ratchet?"

"Hm?"

"Thank you so much."

"You’re welcome, Ironhide. Thank you for being a sport."

He chuckled. "I am aren't I?"

"The best sport ... the best mech … and pretty soon, the best father,” Ratchet said.

"He'll be awesome. I always thought he'd be at the far end of the awesome scale."

Ratchet chuckled. "He will be. How could he not? He looks just like you."

Ironhide snickered. "I had no hand in that."

"No. But at least he doesn't have big yellow circles on his optics."

"No," Ironhide said chuckling. "He doesn't."

There was a peaceful silence a moment.

"Ratchet?"

"Hm?"

"It **would** have helped him with night vision."

-0-Half a joor before separation commences

They sat together on the couch in First Aid's office, Ratchet leaned on Ironhide who had his arm around the medic's shoulders.

Prime and Prowl, Ultra Magnus, Jazz and Bumblebee were in the main Med Bay talking quietly together. In the hallway and corridors outside, half the base was there awaiting this most singular moment, the first sparkling born in Autobot City and their new home.

First Aid and Wheeljack were in the surgery getting things ready. Perceptor had the protoform and placed it on a table nearby, a soft blanket underneath to wrap it in when things were accomplished.

It was quiet and peaceful, then it wasn't.

Ratchet sitting up clutching his chassis groaned in pain.

Ironhide startled, sat forward, too, staring at Ratchet in terror. " **First Aid!** **GET IN HERE**!"

"Ironhide, its supposed to -"

Ratchet leaned over again, his groan louder this time. A tear fell from his optic sliding down his cheek and he gasped as he bit his lip.

Ironhide leaned back as First Aid stepped inside taking Ratchet's hand. He gently pressed Ratchet back and unclasped his chest plates, the layers of metallic protection folding back to reveal the glory within. A beautiful blue spark was being circled rather quickly by a smaller one. Tendrils of energy snapped and sparkled as the little life form hurried and raced going this way and that as it began the first step of separation. "It looks normal, Ratchet. How much does it hurt?"

"Slaggin' hard, First Aid." Ratchet gasped, his optics off lined in pain.

First Aid closed the clasp and Ratchet's plating slid seamlessly back into place.

Ironhide looked at Ratchet, then First Aid as tears appeared in his optics, too, as he held Ratchet's servo. "What's happening? Ratchet's in pain, First Aid. What do we do?"

"We wait, Ironhide. I want you to hold his servo and when you feel a pain, Ratchet, squeeze Ironhide's servo. Ironhide, count the time between the pains. As the sparkling gets ready to separate the times will be closer. Right now, I don't think we’re very close."

"It **hurts** him," Ironhide said. "What about his pain?"

"He needs it. It will tell us when he's ready." First Aid looked at Ratchet. "Did you hear me, Ratchet? You have to squeeze his servo to let us know."

Ratchet, his optics off line nodded. He leaned into Ironhide resting against his shoulder.

They sat quietly as time slowly ticked forward as out in the hallway the tension was slowly building.

Ratchet leaned against Ironhide, his optics off line and his body as relaxed as he could make it. At nearly a breem, a pain spasmed and he cried out gasping as he squeezed Ironhide's servo tightly.

Ironhide swallowing hard as his held on, his arm tightening around Ratchet.

Ratchet pushed against Ironhide's chassis groaning as the pain continued. He gasped and gasped, then it began to subside.

First Aid standing in the door with a stricken look on his face at Ratchet's suffering marked the time as they waited.

Prime perched half on a counter top watched solemnly, his spark pounding in his chassis as he listened.

Prowl stood beside him leaning against Prime with a solemn expression.

Prime slipped his arm around Prowl and tugged him closer.

The others, all of them were solemn as well for the first time of an event so rare and momentous as this it was new territory. Some of them were nervous, some looked scared and all of them wanted it over.

No one more than Ironhide.

-0-Med Bay, four joors later

Ratchet stood up and walked to the med berth to lay back on its soft cushions. It had been four long painful joors and he was nearing the time of separation. The sparkling was moving more urgently, the pains under a minute apart.

Wheeljack and Perceptor had put the tray with the protoform on the cabinet next to Ratchet, the distance between the medic and the sparkling's body no more than a few steps.

The mood was extremely quiet and tense as everyone in the Med Bay watched, transfixed by the sight before them.

Ironhide gripping Ratchet's servo, gently petting Ratchet's cheek with his digits stood beside him, his optics locked on the medic. For four joors the rhythm was silence, exhaustion, sharp cries and groans. They would build, occur and then ebb.

No one wanted to leave. Everyone wanted to be there when the future joined the present, when the possibility of their species continuing in a real way became a firm reality. This sparkling would be the fourth in their company, the first born here and the eleventh youngster possible in the current population including the sparked mech who sat on a med berth nearby, his arm around his bond as the two watched silently with three femmes and their sparklings.

"Ratchet?" First Aid asked as he leaned down.

"Yes?" Ratchet asked weakly.

"It's time to separate."

Ratchet glanced at him and rolled from his side to his back groaning as he did.

Ironhide assisting him looked anxiously at First Aid. "First Aid, if anything goes wrong Ratchet is first. **Ratchet** is the one who’s saved."

First Aid looked at Ironhide with some distress. "Nothing is going to go wrong, Ironhide."

Ironhide gripped First Aide's arm, holding him. " **Ratchet** is first."

First Aid nodded so Ironhide let him go. He checked his instruments, then began to don a pair of glove-shaped wires that would lure the infant to leave the chamber. He slipped them on both his servos checking to see that they fit his digits exactly. They would be the transfer device for the sparkling, providing an electrical net for him to rest in between Ratchet's spark and his protoform. He looked at Ratchet. "You’re ready, Ratchet. Your pains are so close together that we need to move now."

Ratchet nodded with his face contorted with pain and his optics off line. He gasped as he struggled through a piercing pain. He groaned then gripped Ironhide's servo tightly. "All right," he whispered.

First Aid glancing at Ironhide began. "What we're going to do is take the sparkling out and put it into the protoform. All you have to do is hold Ratchet's hand and don't interfere, Ironhide. Do you understand?"

Frightened optics met First Aid as Ironhide agreed. He felt his throat constrict with fright as he swallowed. He seemed unable to speak around his fear. First Aid turned back to Ratchet disturbed by Ironhide's fear, then he leaned down close to him. "Here we go, Ratchet. Okay?"

  
  


Chapter 112

-0-Outside Med Bay

The corridor was lined with mechs who’d come to wait. There was a miracle going on, one so unknown to most that it was almost frightening. The sounds, pain and tension, it was fascinating as well as repellingly strange. For most of them this was a first, something attributed to ancient times, so rare that it’d become a legend or myth to most.

So few mechs had **seen** a sparkling let alone a separation that it was a learning opportunity to the senior Autobots, those charged with keeping their species alive. The moment had been seized, the group gathered and they waited together.

Sitting in the doorway leaning back against Sideswipe, Bluestreak watched. Sunstreaker nervous and attentive sat on the other side. Behind them, standing, pacing, sitting patiently, all the others waited, too. Hound sat with Silverbow on his lap. The Prime's little mechs were distributed among the group. All they had to do was wait for the miracle to happen.

First Aid glancing at Ironhide filled him in. "What we're going to do is take the sparkling out and put it into the protoform. All you have to do is hold Ratchet's hand and don't interfere, Ironhide. Do you understand?"

Frightened optics met First Aid as Ironhide agreed. He felt his throat constrict with fear as he swallowed. He swallowed again, seemingly unable to speak. First Aid grimaced, disturbed by Ironhide's fear, then he leaned down to Ratchet. "Here we go, Ratchet. Okay?"

Ratchet, his pain intense nodded, his optics off line against the increase in activity in his chest. Gripping Ironhide's servo tightly, he felt another wave flash through him followed by nausea.

First Aid triggered his spark chamber and the metal plating folded back slipping away to reveal the brilliant light of his agitated spark. The sparkling had already separated one of the four long tendrils of energy that had connected him to his carrier. It was flailing wildly as the sparkling flitted this way and that in agitation.

First Aid powered up the grid on his servos, the energy soft and warm, attractive to the sparkling light of the infant spark. It halted its agitated movement abruptly, sensing a safe harbor nearby so the flailing tendril reached out tentatively touching then anchoring itself on the grid of First Aid's servos. Another groan and another tendril snapped seeking the grid to anchor itself. First Aid waited, the sparkling waited and Ratchet groaned as the little life force gathered itself to leave.

Ironhide felt tears obscuring his optics as he held Ratchet's servo. He wanted it over and he wanted them all safe so half of the wonder was lost to him. Yet this was his son, his some day adult mech. This was their greatest collaboration and if he hadn't been so frightened he would've been more aware of how wonderful the moment was.

Prime shifted nervously pulling Prowl closer. They were all watching and waiting tensely when the third tendril parted as Ratchet's loud groan shimmered across their own taut nerves. Shifting tensely, they were all ready for it to be over.

"You're doing great, Ratchet. One more," First Aid said calmer than he felt as he held the little life force in his servos. "One more to go."

Ratchet lying in great tension, his optics off line, his face contorted in pain vented a sigh. "All right," he whispered as another wave washed over him. It was like getting shot in the spark chamber and as he groaned, a long low moan, the last tendril snapped.

The sparkling was separated.

First Aid stood still a moment allowing the sparkling to connect with his grid, then he slowly walked toward Wheeljack and Perceptor, his hands cupped with a little glowing light shining out of them. He stepped forward toward the protoform as Perceptor and Wheeljack stood to the side waiting through the separation. They moved forward to lift up the protoform and tap the tiny spark chamber. The tiny plates slid as the chamber was revealed.

Wheeljack manipulated a scanner and the spark core inside began to glow, warming to be receptive for the new occupant of the protoform. When it was bright enough he glanced at First Aid who lowered his glowing servos into the tiny chamber. For a moment he waited silently, watching the sparkling resting in his hands. Then a tendril, two, then all of them reached out to touch the spark core which flared as the sparkling accepted its new home.

For a moment there was nothing. Then tiny blue optics opened and looked at Wheeljack, a tiny servo moved, then a leg. It opened its mouth and wailed loudly, its body coming alive with movement.

Ratchet lying stricken, waiting for something tried to rise.

Ironhide pushed him down as First Aid turned to him. "Just wait a moment, Ratchet. He's coming."

Ratchet felt tears filling his optics and a sob in his throat as he lay back looking up at Ironhide. "Is he all right, Ironhide?" he managed around his tears.

"He's slaggin' awesome, Ratchet," he said looking over his shoulder at the tiny black sparkling with the three bands of yellow on his little arm. "He's fraggin' above average."

At that remark the spell was broken as everyone in the room relaxed and laughed. Down the hallway through the corridors relief spread as clapping and cheers began. A new life was born, a new future was made and the hope of their people to survive the hell of their lives was remade again.

-0-A few minutes later

Ratchet sat up swaying slightly as he hung his helm, his body filled with nausea and pain. Looking up, watching as First Aid, Wheeljack and Perceptor ran their sparkling's first diagnostic he waited as Ironhide stood nervously beside him. He leaned on the big mech as Ironhide squeezed his shoulders. "You need to lie down, Ratchet."

"I want to see him first," Ratchet said wearily.

When they finished, First Aid wrapped him in his blanket then held him out to Ratchet. "No, First Aid. Ironhide holds him first."

Ironhide looked at Ratchet and swallowed hard. Then he held his servos out taking the bundle to hold it in the crook of his arm. They both looked at it, the familiar face looking back the spitting image of his creator. Tiny blue optics looked at them both and a small arm with a clenched servo lay outside the folds of the blanket.

Ratchet took it, squeezing it gently as the blue optics looked toward him. Then he wailed loudly as he gripped Ratchet's fingers tightly.

"He wants you, Ratchet," Ironhide said handing him off.

Ratchet took him, this most needed and wanted little mech and kissed his helm, running his digits over his little face. The blue optics followed him, the gaze never wavering and Ratchet knew that the little mech remembered that they had shared sparks. "You're right, Ironhide. He's truly seriously above average."

The room relaxed, the mechs and femmes laughing as they stepped forward to see the sparkling. Then Ironhide stepped in front of Ratchet and the sparkling. "You can't see him for three days. We have to present him in the naming ceremony."

"Damned Praxian culture," Jazz said with a chuckle. Prowl thumped him with his fist as they grinned at each other. The room felt relief from the tension endured so long.

"Let us all go now," Prime said as he began to shoo people. They went grudgingly and when all of them had, he looked to look at Ratchet and Ironhide. "You made us all proud, old friends."

Ironhide swallowed hard. "It was all Ratchet," he said.

Ratchet smiled as patted Ironhide's aft. "Don't sell yourself short, big boy. It takes two to tango."

They chuckled as Prime left, walking out to the celebrations that were going on all over the facility.

First Aid thanked Wheeljack and Perceptor who left as well, then he turned to Ironhide and Ratchet. Smiling, he rubbed his hands together. "Now comes the hard part," he said.

Ratchet and Ironhide exchanged glances of doom.

-0-A few later

"Hold still, Ironhide."

"Do you think I need this? I mean … uh, what **do** I mean?"

"Nice save, Ironhide." First Aid glanced at Ratchet with a grin.

A piercing optic impaled him from Ratchet so he shut up and let First Aid fit him with a feeding tube in his wrist interface compartment. Apparently, it was a design affectation to include The Sexy and The Sexy Outcome in the same port space.

"Your energon will be the right consistency and temperature, Ironhide and Ratchet. It will be better than feeding with a bottle for now. He can cuddle and feel secure."

When he was finished and his scan checked out, First Aid reached for and received the sparkling. He put it into Ironhide's arms, settling him against Ironhide's chassis. "Now, take the cord and hold it out, tapping the sparkling's mouth with it."

Ironhide did, clumsily pulling the cable and tapping the sparkling. It looked at him narrowing his optics. Then he tapped it again and the infant opened his mouth as the cable slipped inside. He held it in his mouth, chewed it a couple of times, then spit it out. Ironhide looked stricken. "He doesn't like me."

Ratchet grinned. "You **sparkling**. He's **two breems old**. What does **he** know. Try it again."

Ironhide looked at Ratchet who was sitting on the med berth getting his own tube installed. Then he tried it again. This time the little mech got it. He began to suck on the cord as Ironhide's energon filled his little tanks for the first time.

To say that Ironhide was in love was a small fragment of a statement about the totality of his feelings. He leaned against the berth looking at the infant in his arms memorizing his features, his heft and his bright blue optics ... baby optics that stared and never blinked. "This sparkling **is** above average, Ratchet. Look at him. Got champion written all over him."

Ratchet chuckled, tucking the cord away as the panel slid shut. "Won't get an argument from me, Ironhide," he said rising wearily.

"You can go to your cabin, Ratchet, or you can stay in the visiting medic quarters."

"I thought you were, First Aid," Ratchet said looking at the youngster.

"I have another place to stay," he said gathering up the gear on the table, putting it in a pan for cleaning and storage later.

"You do? Anyone **I** know?" Ratchet asked with a smile.

"Yenta Claus," First Aid said. "I heard about you. We hope you find … uh, what is it you said, Ironhide?"

"Your marbles, Ratchet," he said with his optics fastened on the little mech in his arm.

"Yes, your marbles," First Aid said as he folded his arms defiantly across his chassis.

"So who is it?" Ratchet asked, his focus laser-like and unwavering.

"Go. Rest," First Aid said as he walked to the door. "Unless someone loses their helm this place is off limits." With that, he walked out the door.

"He's got someone."

"Let it go, Ratchet."

"I will. When I know who," Ratchet said smiling brightly. He ed to look at Ironhide and the little mech. "Awwww."

Ironhide looked up. "You did good, Ratchet. I don't know how to thank you."

Ratchet smiled. "You don't have to. But Ironhide?"

"What, Ratchet?" he asked looking up at Ratchet with a look so warm and loving that Ratchet that he felt his spark flutter.

"Ironhide, when we have a sibling for this one, you carry."

"Not on your **slaggin'** life, Ratchet," he said with a smile.

-0-Bluestreak

They sat in a corridor with friends all around celebrating the separation of the sparkling. Sideswipe held him in his lap and Sunstreaker was next to him. Tomorrow, they would be bonded in a simple short ceremony in front of the whole community. It would be final and for Bluestreak, overdue. He smiled and listened, the talking and laughing around him the part of his life that he loved the most.

He’d traveled alone in space for a long time before finding Sunstreaker. They had begun the journey to Earth together following the call of Prime. It had been a slaggin' miracle to find Sideswipe already here. Now they'd be joined and nothing short of death could divide them. The idea of a trine was the only logical solution because he couldn't divide his feelings. They were both lovable and both loved by him. The logistics of a trine, something most Autobots didn't do was lost on him.

It was a good thing he had screwed up his nerve and gone to speak with a Seeker. He smiled. A good thing indeed.

  
  


Chapter 113

-0-That night

"You all right?"

"I'm fine, Ironhide."

[Silence]

"Can I getcha anything? Energon? A pillow?"

"No, Only One. I'm good."

[Silence]

"Do you suppose I should leave the light on or watch him or something."

[grin] "He's probably okay. I don't hear him. Do you?"

[glance over there, lean, **listen]** "No. He's recharging."

"Good. Lay back here and keep me warm."

[Silence]

"You cold? I'll get ya a blanket."

"No. I just need you."

[Silence]

[grin] "Easy. Ask for something hard."

[grin]

-0-At the shebang

Bluestreak danced with Sunstreaker moving slowly with him as Blaster played someone's request. The dance floor was packed and everyone who could be was there. He considered his visit earlier in the day...

-0-Near the Seeker's barracks

He stood nearby looking at the Seekers as they sat in the sun talking together. They’d noticed him but were ignoring his presence. He recognized them all, the elite Seeker squadron that had done so much damage to them and their Cause. They were here now, refugees and not everyone was happy about it.

They were glad the Seekers had given their oaths and the dishonor it would engender to break them guaranteed they would no longer be the enemy. But the spark knows what it knows and it would take longer for the bitterness to fade. Coming here, girding up his courage, he knew he needed to talk. So he stepped forward and stopped before two, Ramjet and Skywarp.

They looked at him warily, their optics cold and hard.

"What do you want, Autobot?" Skywarp asked.

"I want to talk to you about trines."

Ramjet looked surprised and Skywarp looked neutral, the latter a much more cunning devious mech than the former. "What about?" he asked.

"Trines," Bluestreak repeated. "I’m going to be bonded tomorrow and I want to know about trines."

"What's to know?" Skywarp said glancing at Ramjet as he arose and walked inside.

Bluestreak watched him go, the deliberate snub rolling off his back. He’d shot the Seeker more than once over the years so they were even in his mind. "We don't have many trines. I don't know what to expect. Enlighten me."

Skywarp considered his request. "You do what you want. You just do it with two others."

"That's all?" Blue asked as he moved to sit next to the taller transformer. "That's all I need to know?"

"What do you want to know? About 'facing? About orn to orn?"

"Sure," Blue said as he leaned back against the wall.

"Whoever wants to 'face, faces."

"And the other one? Do you have to be alone or are they with you or what?" Blue asked.

A smirk formed on Skywarp's face as he looked at Bluestreak. "Either way. The other is going to know anyway. You **do** understand how a bond works don't you."

"Mostly," Blue said.

"You give up privacy."

"All of it?"

Skywarp thought a moment. "You can keep things from the others if you’re good with firewalls and you’ll become good at building them. If there’s nothing that’s yours its easy to get lost in the others. You need to save a place that’s yours and yours alone. The others should respect that and if they can't learn to firewall."

Bluestreak nodded. "What’s the benefit of a trine?"

"Company, 'facing, strategy," he said. "You can have help when the others need it, if they're ill or something needs doing. You aren't left to do it alone unless you want to. Privacy matters but after a while the company counts for more."

"You get along? You don't have problems between you? Jealousy or things like that?" Blue asked considering the volatility of Sunstreaker.

"Sure," Skywarp said. "A bond like Starscream is high maintenance. There are jealousies but mostly we work them out. You have to. You live in each others minds. Rancor is a heavy load when you do."

"Are you equals?" Bluestreak asked.

Skywarp snorted. "Of course not." He looked at Bluestreak. "What do you expect? That personalities will be different because you’re bonded? No one can be equal to Starscream. He's Starscream. If you’re equal now, fine. But don't expect it to be different when you bond."

"So it doesn't help personalities."

"No," Skywarp said smirking a moment. "What they are before, you will be after but you’ll be connected through the bond and everything will be stronger and closer." He considered things a moment. "The good is good and the bad is worse. You can't truly hide anything but you can have allies in a trine that you don't have outside of one."

Bluestreak considered that. "Thank you, Skywarp." He arose taking a moment to look at the sky and the stars overhead. "It’ll be tomorrow. You and the others should come."

"Why?" he asked.

Bluestreak looked at him. "Because we all live here together," he said quietly. Then he walked back to the lights and noise beyond.

Skywarp watched him go and sat a moment in thought before rising to walk inside the barracks.

-0-Nearby

"Party sounds like fun."

"You can go, Ironhide."

"No."

[Silence]

"Why not?"

"Because you and the sparkling need me. What if you need something? What if he cries?"

"I'm fine and the sparkling is recharging. If you want to go, you can."

[Silence]

"I know. ... do you think he's hungry?"

"He’ll let us know, I think."

"Do you think he's too hot? Or maybe he's too cold?"

[grin] "I think he'll let us know, Ironhide."

[Silence]

"What about tomorrow?"

[Silence]

"We need to take him with us, Ironhide. I also think we need to make sure no one sees him," Ratchet said. "You want to present him so we’ll keep him covered up. If he gets fussy I can take him back here."

"I'll come with you."

[grin] "You don't have to, Ironhide. You can stay and play."

"But you might need something. You might need … something or other."

[Silence]

"Ironhide?" [grin]

"What?"

"Did you know that you're above average?"

[Silence]

[grin] "If you say so, Ratchet."

[Silence]

**"WAAAAAAAAA!"**

**[CRASH! THUD! SCRAMBLE! LIGHTS!]** " **He's crying!** "

"I noticed, Ironhide. Move and let me get him."

"Don't fall over."

"I won't, Ironhide. You … move a bit and … here."

[Both peer at little screamer in the bundle.] "You or me?"

"You, Ironhide. Good practice."

[Walk. Sit. Pull out plug] "Here ya go."

[Chew.] "Splut."

"He spit it out."

"Try it again."

"Here."

[Chew. Chewchewchew.] "Splut."

[frown] "He doesn't like it."

"Give him a chance, Ironhide. Try it again."

[Tap. Tap. Tap.] "Come on. Open up. You know you want to."

Tiny blue optics narrow and glare. Mouth frowns. [Chew. Chew.] "Splut."

Large blue optics narrow and a **HUGE** pout begins. "He hates me."

"Awww, Ironhide. You poor sparkling. Have you checked the other end?"

Large blue optics get as big as truck tires. "The other end?"

  
  


Chapter 114

  
  


-0-At the moment of truth the next orn in front of The Fortress, Mars for a Praxian Bonding Ceremony

Prime glancing toward Prowl got the word so he walked outside. Stopping on the top step he smiled as he noted that their entire company was facing him enjoying the moment together. They stilled.

Then that’s when it happened.

"What are **you** doing here?"

The voice cut through the hushed assembly and everyone present turned to look as shocked murmurs passing through the crowd. Standing behind them sparkling clean and silent, six adult Seekers waited warily.

Sunstreaker and Sideswipe stepped forward joined by Bluestreak. Prowl gripping Blue, tugging him back. The three halted as Ironhide intervened, glaring at them. "Step back inside. You haven't been called."

"What about that?" Sunstreaker asked scowling deeply.

"I asked them to come."

Prime turned to Bluestreak as surprised as all the others. "What?"

"I asked them to come," Bluestreak replied.

Prime considered that, then stepped down. The crowd parted as he walked toward the Seekers.

Ironhide and Prowl pulled the three back into the doorway where they gathered to watch.

Prime walked to the Seekers who watched him with cold optics.

"We were asked to come," Skywarp said, his voice wary and edgy.

"I know," Prime said. "And you are welcome."

"What?" a voice behind him asked in surprise.

A murmur greeted Prime's remarks so he looked at the crowd before him. "Bluestreak invited them and I am sorry myself that I did not do it first."

The crowd became quiet.

"Thank you, Bluestreak for reminding us of what we **all** are, refugees trying to form a community. The Seekers are **part** of our community. As long as we all come here in peace and live together the same way all are welcome." It was quiet a moment, then he turned toward Starscream. "You are welcome for the ceremony and celebrations afterward."

Starscream looking at him with a shuttered expression. The others did as well.

"Until all are one, Prime?" Starscream asked, his voice slightly defensive and sarcastic.

Prime grinned. "Until all are one." He stepped to one side and offered the path free to a good position in the crowd. They hesitated then moved, walking into the crowd with their helms held high. Prime followed them and continued, walking to the steps once more. He looked at the crowd again.

Glancing backwards at Prowl's slight smile he began. "Welcome to the moment when Bluestreak of Praxus, youngling of Prowl of Praxus bonds with Sunstreaker of Kaon and Sideswipe of Kaon, proxy younglings of Ironhide of Praxus. It is my honor to ask the questions that have to be asked in front of the community that will be their home. When they have been asked and answered, then they will be considered bonded with all the rights, privileges and responsibilities as any similar adult.

“As Prime, it has been a long time since I was asked to preside over such a gathering and such an event. I am honored to do so and hope fervently that it will not be the last time." He looked back. "I need Bluestreak of Praxus and his genitor, Prowl of Praxus."

They stepped forward with Prowl stopping beside Prime as Bluestreak stepped down, glancing toward Prime to smile broadly.

Prime smiled back then turned back again. "I need Sideswipe and Sunstreaker of Kaon and their proxy genitor, Ironhide of Praxus."

A snicker greeted their choice of ‘best mech’ as the three stepped forward, Ironhide stopping beside Prime as the twins stepped down to stand on either side of Bluestreak. They joined servos to wait, Sideswipe with a serious expression and Sunstreaker with an anxious one.

Prime smiled slightly. "And now the questions. Bluestreak, are you prepared to bond with Sunstreaker and Sideswipe and have no other before you?"

"Yes," Bluestreak said as he smiled at Prowl who smiled back.

"Sunstreaker and Sideswipe, are you prepared to bond with Bluestreak and have no other before you?"

Sideswipe answered quietly.

Sunstreaker swallowed and whispered, "yes."

"Ironhide, as proxy genitor for Sunstreaker and Sideswipe do you promise to be responsible for them, to assist them if they need you and to stand by their sparklings as guardian if such need comes?"

"Yes," Ironhide said for the fifth time in his life. The younglings before him were the only ones left living to whom he made this promise, a fact not lost upon him when they asked. Accepting was easy at that point and he did so happily.

"Prowl," Prime said looking toward his bond. "As genitor, do you promise to be responsible for Bluestreak, to assist him if they need you and to stand by their sparklings as guardian if such need comes?"

"Yes," Prowl said.

"Let it be known that as bond to Prowl, I agree, too. Ratchet, as bond to Ironhide what do you say?"

Ratchet stepped closer. "Yes, I agree."

"Ironhide and Prowl as principle genitors have agreed to protect this bond and to step in when the need arises. That is their responsibility to you and your family. Now you have to decide. Do you give freely genitor rights to both Prowl and Ironhide?" he asked the twins and Blue.

For Bluestreak, the answer was easy. For the twins, not so much. Having been through genitor law once with Prowl it would mean publicly acknowledging the right of either Prowl or Ironhide to step in, separate and control them if something should arise that endangered any of them or their sparklings.

Bluestreak nodded. "Yes."

Sideswipe glancing at Ironhide swallowed. "Yes. I guess."

Snickers from the crowd brought smiles to Prime, Prowl and Ironhide. They waited for Sunstreaker.

He stood stock still staring at them, at Bluestreak, at Sideswipe and Prowl. Then he shook his head. "Sure. Yes."

More laughter greeted that remark and as the amusement subsided Prime closed the ceremony. "This is a Primus blessed event, witnessed by all and freely agreed upon. This is now a public record that Sunstreaker, Sideswipe and Bluestreak are a bond, that they are adult in the eyes of the community and that a new family is born today. Congratulations," he concluded stepping forward to hug Bluestreak tightly.

Everyone surged forward and hugged, slapped and snarked. The crowd continued onward to enter the facility and as they did they congratulated the genitors, Ironhide and Prowl, as they passed. Prime and the others, family all, accepted congratulations and the goodwill of the community as they filed in leaving six Seekers behind. Prime stepped down toward them as Prowl waited for him.

"Nice ceremony. Simple and to the point. Praxian, I believe," Starscream said, his expression lost in memory for a moment. "I have only seen this once."

"I have a couple of times but never officiating," Prime replied. "My bond's youngling came to see you apparently."

"He wished to know about trines," Skywarp said.

Prime grinned. "And you told him."

Skywarp smirked back. "He’s in a superior bond. Not quite the level of a Seeker bond, but better than a duo."

Prime smiled. "I cannot complain about mine. You will come inside."

"I don't think it would be wise. The Autobots are not too happy to see us," Thundercracker replied.

"This isn't about the Autobots or Decepticons. This is about Bluestreak and what he wants. This is about all of us becoming one again. If one is not allowed, then none of us are going to be free in the long run. Blue wants you to come and so do I. I think you should."

For a moment they stared at him, unreadable and unknowable. Then Starscream nodded. "I will come for a while. I never had a grudge against Praxus."

Prime smiled. "Good. You can sit at our table."

"You wish to do some do-goodism do you," Starscream said smirking slightly as he began to walk to the rec room through the courtyard and up the steps.

"Or maybe I just want to cover your back," Prime said smirking back.

The Seekers took a moment to discuss among themselves what they would do and then they agreed. Starscream walked beside Prime to the open doors beyond. They entered the party and sat through several joors talking to the Aerialbots and a few others, watching the Autobots and the civilians enjoy themselves. Then they excused themselves and walked away, the first crack in the wall evident in a long, long process of mutual trust.

-0-Nearby

Ratchet sat at a table with the sparkling in his arms. Orion was recharging and although the music and conversation was loud he wasn't fussing. Ratchet sat with Ironhide who had his arm around the back of Ratchet's chair and a wary optic on all the mechs and femmes who just 'wanted a peek'. No one was going to get a peek until the naming ceremony that would occur in one orn just before the garrison returned to Earth.

"Ironhide," Ratchet said glancing at the big mech who was hovering at his side. "Relax. Enjoy."

"I am."

Ratchet smirked. "You’re going to throw a rod if you don't relax."

"You can fix it."

Ratchet snorted. "Do you want to go?"

"Not if you don't."

"It's up to me, huh."

"You or the little mech," Ironhide said peering into the tiny gap in the blanket that allowed the infant to be seen. "If he's too tired, we go."

"He's recharging."

"He's a good little sparkling. I’d be screaming in his place with all this noise." Ironhide pulled the blanket back a bit and smiled.

"If you want we can go to the cabin and you can hold him," Ratchet said.

"You don't mind?" Ironhide asked, his pleasure at the possibility immense.

"Of course not," Ratchet said rising. "Say goodnight to the boys. Give them 'facing advice or something like a good proxy genitor."

Ironhide snorted as he rose to walk to the twins who were standing nearby with Smokescreen and Bumblebee while Prime danced with Bluestreak. "We're heading out. Anything you need to know?"

Sunstreaker snorted. "I think we have it under control."

Ironhide snorted back. "Remember who the sparker is here, boys."

They hooted and laughed, slapping hands in delight. Then Ironhide walked to Ratchet who was talking to Prowl. Rising Ratchet with Ironhide following walked out of the room, ran the gauntlet to Med Bay, then entered. It was quiet as they walked to the back to lay the infant on the berth. Pulling the blanket back, they sat on the other berth to stare at the little mech as he slept.

"That was a nice ceremony," Ratchet said as he shifted to lean on Ironhide's shoulder.

"It was. Prime did a good job. Kept it light even though it was serious."

"I agree. It was amazing to see the Seekers but that they came to the bash was even more so. I'm glad that Bluestreak asked them. They must feel really cut off," Ratchet said.

Ironhide nodded.

It was quiet a moment.

"Ratchet?"

"What, Ironhide?"

"You know that television in the quarters back on base?"

"Um-hm."

"Doesn't hold a candle to this."

[grin] "I think I like this channel, too, Ironhide."

  
  


Chapter 115

-0-Morning

The garrison worked madly to gather up their belongings for the several trips by the Aerialbots and Cosmos that it would require to take them back to Diego Garcia. Civilians assisted moving gear and weapons to the airfield, helping with morning rations as they chatted and hung around. Several of them had made friends with members of the garrison, two of them romantically, so it was sad and glad times for all.

Hot Rod, Cliffjumper, Ultra Magnus and Blurr sat in the Rec Room shooting the breeze with Springer, Kup and the twins. A lot of ribbing was going on and the twins smirked as they preened. Details would not be forthcoming.

Probably.

-0-Ops Center

Prowl went through the overnight intel and found a glitch. Lydia Nast had made contact with 'High Flyer'. He frowned as he pulled up the entire file for review on the ride home. He sorted through the duty schedules and made corrections here and there.

Ultra Magnus would be city manager with Springer as not only security chief of the city but of the planet itself.

Hot Rod would stay with the garrison along with Blurr, Brawn and Cliffjumper. The hot headed nature of the mini-cons was not lost on Prowl so he left them here rather than risk a confrontation on Earth with a soldier.

Kup would also stay as Magnus' second, all of them deferring to either Prowl as second-in-command of the entire army and Prime or to Prime alone as civil leader. They would have to hit the ground running when they returned.

-0-Ratchet and Ironhide

They’d arisen earlier, fed, cuddled and exclaimed over their sparkling. When they were finished, they took the soldier's blanket and booties to put him into them.

"He looks cute. I never thought much of clothes. Had a cloak once in the army on Cybertron. You know how Sentinel was about the officer's corps."

Ratchet nodded. "I had one, too. I sorta liked it. All swishy and all."

"But mostly it was a processor ache," Ironhide said flipping the infant's bootie clad ped with his digit up and down, watching it flop gently. "These are cute, though."

"I know. I like the softness." Ratchet smiled as he sat beside Ironhide. "You're easily amused I see. You like flipping his ped up and down."

"It's cute. He has such skinny legs and big peds."

"I’d say he takes after you but that would be wrong," Ratchet said looking down at his own gangling physique. "He’ll outgrow that. If you want a warrior you can't have gangling legs. The recoil will tip him over."

"Who says we want a warrior? Maybe he will never know war," Ironhide said as his expression turned serious.

"From your lips to Primus' audials, Ironhide," Ratchet said as he leaned on Ironhide happily.

-0-Bluestreak

He gathered his gear, the previous evening rattling around in his processor. He could hear and feel them, a sensation unlike anything he’d ever experienced. They could feel and hear him as well. They had a lifetime of experience with bonds and this was day one and a half for Blue.

It was strange, wonderful, loving and more than he’d expected. It was odder and more familiar than he’d expected. He wondered if this was how Prowl had felt when he bonded with Prime. Grinning, he considered the evening prior sitting on the berth that had been ground zero of their amour...

/... oh .../

That was his last coherent thought as Sunstreaker with a merciless expression of hunger on his face scooped him into his arms, the two falling on the berth together in one swift movement. Bluestreak had stepped back when he entered to look at them, both of them making clear by their expressions what they needed and wanted from him at this moment. At that point he was in the whirlwind and out of any control of the outcome.

Not that he cared at that moment.

Ending up in the cabin, having been scooped up by Sunstreaker and hoo-hawed through the Rec Room by one and all present, Bluestreak had mentally and emotionally danced around with pins and needles racing through his circuits when finally set down on his peds.

Skywarp had warned him of the special circumstances of a trine as opposed to one-on-one bonding and he was confronting it right out of the gate.

Sideswipe less exhibitionist and more prone to the alien concept of embarrassment than his brother followed them, shaking his head at Sunstreaker's brazenness. What Blue didn't know was the conversation they had all the way to the cabin, the back and forth and the aggravation between the two about what would happen next.

Sunstreaker knew what he wanted but Sideswipe was still off put by the proximity of his brother to his intimacy with Bluestreak. They’d often been aware of each others sexier moments but usually dialed them down with only a snark or two shared. But this would be different. This would be intimacy in front of the other and for Sideswipe, the more 'normal' of the two it would be strange in a long life filled with strange.

He watched as Sunstreaker and Bluestreak got down to business finding it oddly erotic in a train wreck sort of way. It had been too long for Sunny and he was rather perfunctory in his approach to scratching the gigantic itch that had been plaguing him for over six decaorns.

Moving toward the berth, Sideswipe knelt and stretched out lying down beside them as they tussled. Reaching out, stroking Blue's arm, he marveled at the expressions crossing the smaller mech's face.

He’d never 'faced with Blue, had never done more than kiss and hold him. He followed the rules Prowl had laid out for fear that they’d be toast if he didn't. It’d been torturous for Sunstreaker, himself in a relationship with Bluestreak for some time before Sideswipe had finally confessed. Now it was good to go and he’d be able to be with Blue as well with his brother watching most likely. A piercing sense of embarrassed self consciousness flitted through his spark at the thought.

It wasn't very long before the light of Sunstreaker's spark filled the darkened room and with fumbling servos he triggered Bluestreak's own spark chamber. The lights were bright, mingling and combining. Sideswipe could see his own servo in the glow. The light surged, so did the two and with a mingled howl and cry they bonded together as swiftly and as inelegantly as could be expected.

Sideswipe marveling at the beauty of the moment reached out to touch Bluestreak. Sunstreaker, off lined and flattened out over Bluestreak was beyond his reach so Sideswipe waited, stroking his arm and Blue's one after the other.

A call from the hallway caught Blue's attention so he rose to look out, spotting Sideswipe down the hallway. "Blue, you coming?"

Blue smiled as he watched Sideswipe roll toward him to stop in the doorway. Smiling, he leaned down to kiss Bluestreak softly as his digits stroked Blue's neck gently. "We need to go soon, Blue."

Bluestreak grinned at Sideswipe. "I'll hurry."

He walked inside again as Sideswipe leaned on the doorway to watch. The emotions in his spark filtered through to Bluestreak who looked at him.

Blue smiled, the love returned, then he began again to gather up his gear quickly. Picking up the duffel, he walked to the door where Sideswipe took it and Blue's servo. Together on the first day of their new bond, the two walked out to the Rec Room and the gathering place beyond to return to Diego Garcia once more.

-0-Outside

Ratchet and Ironhide stood together with Prowl, Wheeljack, Perceptor, Prime and Ultra Magnus as well. The community was gathering to go and they buzzed with excitement at seeing the first sparkling born on Mars in their community and the fourth overall until Gear Shift separated.

Prime spoke briefly with Ironhide then stepped forward. "Are you ready to speak publicly, Ironhide?" he asked as he enjoyed Ironhide’s discomfort.

"No."

"You'll be a champion," Ratchet said encouragingly.

"No."

Prime snorted then stepped forward, the crowd quieting down as he did. "Today is a great day for us all. We get to see our newest citizen and hear his name spoken. In Praxian culture all the important things are done in common. All the important things are done together to bind the community as one. So it is the duty and honor of Ironhide to introduce us to his sparkling."

A huge rumble accompanied that declaration as Prime stepped back to make room for Ironhide who stepped up reluctantly. He looked out at the crowd, then pulled Ratchet up to stand beside him to the general amusement of all. With his arm around Ratchet, he began.

"In Praxus when a sparkling is separated the family keeps them from everyone for three orns. I don't remember why," he said shaking his head.

People laughed and then he continued.

"I don't remember why and that's sad isn't it. We have all our traditions that we're ever going to have right here among us and already they're fading. There had to be a good reason but I can't remember it. How many Praxians are here today?" he asked as three servos went up. "There’s five of us. Five. Maybe there’s more, maybe more are coming and maybe one of them will remember. I hope so.

"We’re all there is for now. We have to remember and observe. My sparkling will remember because Ratchet and I will teach him. He will know about Cybertron even if he never sees it in his lifetime. Its where and who we are. Our world and our identity. That’s why Prowl and I want to make our family markers with Praxian customs." He gathered his emotions. "We do it for those who can't and those who never will."

It was quiet as everyone listened intently including Skywarp who was standing nearby out of view with Thundercracker. They’d been walking and halted to watch the garrison get ready to leave, coming upon the ceremony by accident.

"We thought a long time over what to call him. But it always came back to the same name. Our sparkling is going to be called Orion."

Prime listening solemnly startled, glancing at Prowl who was smiling. He looked at Ratchet and Ironhide who were looking at him and smiled with surprise and delight. The crowd also applauding settled down to listen again.

"When Bumblebee let us know the Allspark was here, the four of us came, Prime, Ratchet, Jazz and me. We didn't save it. But we **did** find allies, a home and every time one of you hear his call and come, I feel personally reborn. We’re here because of leadership, the personal leadership of our Prime. He’s our leader, our moral center and our beacon. It was his idea that created Autobot City, his patience and leadership that built the relationship with the humans and it’ll be his leadership that allows us to be a people again, with a home and the chance of families.

"He was a working mech before he was chosen, a regular mech that the Matrix picked out of everyone else. He was one of us. No one fancy because you don’t have to be fancy to have all the quality and qualities that are needed for big and small things both. You need empathy, integrity, courage, selflessness and dreams. He’s our leader and so we name our son Orion in his honor so that part of him is never forgotten, the part of him that is us."

With that, Ironhide took the bundle from Ratchet who helped him separate the sparkling from it and handed it to Prime. He took it nervously, drawing an 'awww' moment from the crowd then looked at it with delight. Holding it up, Prime showed the crowd who exploded with happiness and shouts.

The sparkling for his part looked at them with round tiny optics, allowing himself to be passed to Prowl who exclaimed over him then handed him onward. All around the crowd he went, the most grizzled soldier and most petite femme holding and loving him. By the time he reached Ironhide and Ratchet once more his little optics were twirling and he was fussing.

Gathering him into their arms and his blanket, they waited for Prime. He turned from Prowl then walked to the steps to pause on the second one. With a huge grin on his face, he looked with great amusement to the assembled crowd. **"Autobots! Roll out!"** he said and they did, laughing, smiling and saying farewell to all.

Chapter 116

_ =0=Morning _

_ The garrison worked madly gathering up their belongings for the several trips by Aerialbot and Cosmos that it would require to take them back to Diego Garcia. Civilians assisted, moving gear and weapons to the air field, helping with morning rations and generally chatting and hanging around. Several of them had made friends with the members of the garrison, two of them romantically and it was sad and glad times for all. _

_ Hot Rod, Cliffjumper, Ultra Magnus and Blur sat in the rec room shooting the breeze with Springer, Kup and the twins.  A lot of ribbing was going on and the twins merely smiled. Details would not be forthcoming. _

_ Probably **.** _

_=0=Ops Center_

_Prowl went through the overnight intel and found a glitch. Lydia Nast had made contact with 'High Flyer'. He frowned, pulling up the entire file for review on the ride home. He sorted through the duty schedules and made corrections here and there. Ultra Magnus would be city manager with Springer as not only security chief of the city but of the planet itself. Hot Rod would stay with the garrison along with Blur, Brawn and Cliffjumper. The hot headed nature of the mini-cons was not lost on Prowl and so he left them here rather than risk a confrontation on Earth with a soldier._

_Kup would also stay as Magnus' second, all of them deferring to either Prowl as second-in-command of the entire army and Prime or to Prime alone as civil leader. They would have to hit the ground running when they returned._

_=0=Ratchet and Ironhide_

_They had arisen earlier, fed, cuddled and exclaimed over their sparkling and when they were finished, they took the soldier's blanket and booties and put him into them._

_"He looks cute. I never thought much of clothes. Had a cloak once in the army on Cybertron. You know how Sentinel was about the officer's corps."_

_Ratchet nodded. "I had one too."_

_"But mostly it was a processor ache," Ironhide said flipping the infant's bootie clad ped with his digit up and down, watching it flop gently. "These are cute though."_

_"I know. I like the softness." Ratchet smiled and sat beside Ironhide. "You're easily amused I see. You like flipping his ped up and down."_

_"It's cute. He has such skinny legs and big peds."_

_"I would say he takes after you but that would be wrong," Ratchet said looking down at his own gangling physique. "He will outgrow that. If you want a warrior, you can't have gangling legs. The recoil will tip him over."_

_"Who says we want a warrior? Maybe he will never know war," Ironhide said, his expression serious._

_"From your lips to Primus' audials, Ironhide," Ratchet said leaning on Ironhide happily._

_=0=Bluestreak_

_He gathered his gear, the previous evening rattling around in his processor. He could hear and feel them, a sensation unlike anything he had ever experienced and they could feel and hear him as well. They had a lifetime of experience with bonds and this was day one and a half for Blue. It was strange, wonderful, loving and more than he had expected. It was odder and more familiar than he had expected and he wondered if this was how Prowl had felt when he had bonded with Prime._

_Grinning, he considered the evening prior, sitting on the berth that had been ground zero of their amour..._

_/... oh .../_

_That was his last coherent thought as Sunstreaker, a merciless expression of hunger on his face scooped him into his arms, turning and falling on the berth together in one swift movement. Bluestreak had stepped back when he turned and looked at them, both of them making clear by their expressions what they needed and wanted from him. At that point he was in the whirlwind and out of any control of the outcome. Not that he cared at that moment._

_Ending up in the cabin, having been scooped up by Sunstreaker and hoo-hawed through the rec room by one and all present, Bluestreak had turned around with pins and needles racing through his circuits when finally set down on his peds. Skywarp had warned him of the special circumstances of a trine as opposed to one on one bonding and he was confronting it right out of the gate._

_Sideswipe, less exhibitionist and more prone to the alien concept of embarrassment than his brother followed them, shaking his head at Sunstreaker's brazenness. What Blue didn't know was the conversation they had all the way to the cabin, the back and forth and the aggravation between the two about what would happen next._

_Sunstreaker knew what he wanted but Sideswipe was still off put by the proximity of his brother to his intimacy with Bluestreak. They had often been aware of each others sexier moments but usually dialed them down with only a snark or two shared. But this would be different. This would be intimacy in front of the other and for Sideswipe, the more 'normal' of the two, it would be strange in a long life filled with strange._

_He stood and watched as Sunstreaker and Bluestreak got down to business, finding it oddly erotic in a train wreck sort of way. It had been too long for Sunny and he was rather perfunctory in his approach to scratching the gigantic itch that had been plaguing him for over six decaorns. Moving toward the berth, Sideswipe knelt and stretched out, lying down beside them as they tussled. Reaching out, stroking Blue's arm, he marveled at the expressions crossing the smaller mech's face._

_He had never 'faced with Blue, had never done more than kiss and hold him. He followed the rules Prowl had laid out for fear that they would be toast if he didn't. It had been torturous for Sunstreaker, himself in a relationship with Bluestreak for some time before Sideswipe had finally confessed. Now it was good to go and he would be able to be with Blue as well, his brother watching most likely. A piercing sense of embarrassed self consciousness flitted through his spark at the thought._

_It wasn't very long before the light of Sunstreaker's spark filled the darkened room and with fumbling hands, he triggered Bluestreak's own spark chamber. The lights were bright, mingling and combining and Sideswipe could see his own servo in the glow. The light surged, so did the two and with a mingled howl and cry they bonded together as swiftly and as inelegantly as could be expected._

_Sideswipe, marveling at the beauty of the moment reached out and touched Bluestreak lying offline with his spark chamber open. It seemed to Sideswipe too vulnerable and so he tapped the latch and it closed, shutting off the essence of the only mech he had ever loved more than his brother. Sunstreaker, off-lined and flattened over Bluestreak was beyond his reach so Sideswipe waited, stroking his arm and Blue's one after the other._

_A call from the hallway caught Blue's attention and he rose and looked out, spotting Sideswipe down the hallway. "Blue, you coming?"_

_Blue smiled and nodded, watching as Sideswipe rolled toward him pausing in the doorway. Smiling, he leaned down and kissed Bluestreak softly, his digits stroking Blue's neck gently. "Need to go soon, Blue."_

_Bluestreak nodded, smiling at Sideswipe lovingly. "I'll hurry."_

_He turned and walked inside again, Sideswipe leaning on the doorway watching. The emotions in his spark filtered through to Bluestreak, who paused and looked at him. He smiled, the love returned and then he turned again gathering up his gear quickly. Picking up the duffel, he turned and walked to the door where Sideswipe took it and Blue's servo. Together on the first day of their new bond the two walked out to the rec room and the gathering place beyond to return to Diego Garcia once more._

_=0=Outside_

_Ratchet and Ironhide stood together, Prowl, Wheeljack, Perceptor, Prime and Ultra Magnus as well. The community was gathering to go and they turned buzzing with excitement at seeing the first sparkling born on Mars in their community and the fourth overall until Gear Shift separated. Prime spoke briefly with Ironhide and turned, pausing before stepping forward. "You ready to speak publicly, Ironhide?" he asked smirking._

_"No."_

_"You'll be a champion," Ratchet said encouragingly._

_"No."_

_Prime snorted and stepped forward, the crowd quieting down. "Today is a great day for us all. We get to see our newest citizen and hear his name spoken. In Praxian culture all the important things are done in community. All the important things are done together to bind the community together. So, it is the duty and honor of Ironhide to introduce us to his sparkling."_

_A huge rumble accompanied that declaration, Prime stepping back and making room for Ironhide, who had stepped up reluctantly. He paused looking out and then turned pulling Ratchet up to stand beside him to the general amusement of all. Turning, his arm around Ratchet he began._

_"In Praxus, when a sparkling is separated, the family keeps them from everyone for three orns. I don't remember why," he said shaking his head. People laughed and then he continued. "I don't remember why and that's sad isn't it. We have all our traditions that we're ever going to have right here among us and already they are fading. There had to be a good reason but I can't remember it. How many Praxians are here today?" he asked as three servos went up. "There are five of us. Five. Maybe there are more, maybe_ _more are coming and maybe one of them will remember. I hope so._

_"We are all there is for now. We have to remember and observe. My sparkling will remember because Ratchet and I will teach him. He will know about Cybertron even if he never sees it in his lifetime. Its where and who we are. Our world, our identity. That is why Prowl and I want to make our markers with Praxian customs." He paused gathering his emotions. "We do it for those who can't and those who never will."_

_It was quiet, everyone listening intently including Skywarp who was standing nearby out of view with Thundercracker. They had been walking and paused to watch the garrison get ready to leave, coming upon the ceremony by accident._

_"We thought a long time over what to call him. But it always came back to the same name. Our sparkling is going to be called Orion."_

_Prime, listening solemnly startled, glancing at Prowl who was smiling. He looked at Ratchet and Ironhide, who were looking at him and nodded, surprised and delighted. The crowd, also applauding settled down to listen again._

_"When Bumblebee let us know the Allspark was here, the four of us came, Prime, Ratchet, Jazz and me. We didn't save it. But we did find allies and a home and every time one of you hear his call and come, I feel reborn. We are here because of leadership, the personal leadership of our Prime. He is our leader, our moral center, our beacon. It was his idea that created Autobot City, it was his patience and leadership that built the relationship with the humans and it will be his leadership that allows us to be a people again, with a home and with the chance of families._

_ "He was a working mech before he was chosen, a regular mech that the Matrix picked out of everyone else. He was one of  **us, no one fancy. He is our leader and so we name our son,** Orion in his honor so that part of him is never forgotten, the part of him that is us." _

_With that, Ironhide turned and took the bundle from Ratchet who helped him separate the sparkling from it and turned, handing it to Prime. He took it nervously, drawing an 'awww' moment from the crowd and looked at it with delight. Turning, holding it up, Prime showed the crowd who exploded with happiness and shouts._

_ The sparkling for his part looked at them with round tiny optics, allowing himself to be passed to Prowl, who exclaimed over him and handed him onward. All around the crowd he went, the most grizzled soldier and most petite femme holding him, loving him. By the time he reached _

  
  


Chapter 117

=0=Cosmos

They climbed in one after another, Ratchet, Ironhide and the sparkling getting cuts to the front of the line. Behind them the others came, walking inside to sit against the hull. Bluestreak and Sideswipe sat together. Sideswipe pulled Blue into his lap as Sunstreaker sat across from them, settling in.

He looked at them, the two quietly conversing on the bond, their words reaching him. They were just chatting, talking about nothing in particular, getting used to each other together on this deeply personal level. He smiled slightly, the memories of the night before coming to him. As they did, the two looked at him with a momentary flash of embarrassed realization pulsing from both as Sunstreaker acknowledged mentally that he’d been present, he’d been aware, he had watched.

Sideswipe shook his head as he slightly tightened his arms around Blue who was looking at Sunstreaker with an embarrassed smile.

Sunny smiled back then erected his first of many firewalls allowing himself and him alone access to that part of his memory. Leaning back, he watched it all again, that is, all but his part which was lost in the fury of his need.

He’d come to his own awareness at some point, lying on his back, remembering the heat and the intensity of their feelings together. He remembered Bluestreak in his arms, holding him and then it went black. He turned on his side, seeking Blue in the darkness and heard rather than saw them, his brother and Bluestreak together.

He remembered then, everything finally coming into place again so he relaxed, laying his helm on his crooked arm. Sideswipe, lying on the other side of Bluestreak had the gunner in his arms softly whispering how much he loved Blue. It surprised him. He figured that Sideswipe was more the aggressor, the fun and thrill seeker taking charge. He hadn't pegged him to be gentle and loving in the way he was showing.

They weren't noticing that he was aware of them, the mist of pleasure that formed over Side's processor was a cloud between him and his twin. Sideswipe's gentle touch was something that Sunstreaker had never really seen before. Bluestreak was beautiful and sensual, just like he always knew him to be.

Sunstreaker reached out and stroked Blues arm, his soft touch sparkling across the sensory net spread over their surface. As he watched he considered this moment that their life changed forever. Now they were connected. They were family.

Now they were truly one.

The door closed as the crew, chatting, joking and laughing together, the past few orns almost magical to a people so unused to relaxation and celebration outside of a shared high grade bottle in a dirt hole or blasted out building. Lift off was gentle with Cosmos moving upward into the thin clouds overhead to disappear into the vacuum of space. Below, beneath the orange-hued sky, Autobot City got back to business.

=0=Ratchet and Ironhide

They sat together, the infant recharging in Ratchet's arms. Ironhide with his arm around Ratchet watched him, his Orion sleeping. Reaching down, he touched the flat little pug nose that mimicked his old dad. He grinned. "He's one handsome little sparkling."

Ratchet glancing up at Ironhide to smile at the unabashed love that he had on his face for his son nodded in agreement. "He's a handsome little devil."

"He's got your face, Hide."

Ironhide looked up at Trailbreaker sitting against the hull with Hound and Silverbow next to him and laughed. "And what a handsome face it is."

Everyone laughed and chuckled.

Then Silverbow got up and clutching her bear, shyly walked to where they sat to bend down to look at the sparkling with curiosity. She pointed at the baby, clicking her sparkling word for 'what?'.

Ratchet who was looking at her with love and sympathy smiled. "Orion."

Silverbow looked at Ratchet who was holding the infant up closer to her, pulling back the blanket, then looked at the infant again. “What?” she clicked again.

Hound who rose to move closer knelt beside her, slipping his arm around her. "Sparkling, Silverbow. Just like you were once. Orion is a sparkling."

She looked at him and then the sparkling. She reached out to touch his bootied ped. Smiling at Orion, she looked at Hound clicking something no one could understand.

He hugged and kissed her, then glanced at the baby. "Orion."

She listened to him then looked at the infant. She then expressed a sound, her attempt to repeat the word.

Hound looked at her and said it very slowly. "Oh-rye-un."

She stared at him, her head moving along with every syllable as she struggled to understand him. "I."

Hound smiled. "Close, baby. Oh-rye-un."

She listened then looked at the baby. "I. N."

Hound glanced back at Trailbreaker with a huge smile on his face.

Trailbreaker who was living and dying with Hound, too, as their daughter struggled to speak smiled back. "Close."

"Very close," Hound said, squeezing his femme gently. "Very good, Silverbow."

She smiled at him then, pointed at the sparkling.

Hound considered her actions then looked at Ratchet. "I think she wants to hold him."

Ratchet stared at the tiny femme, then grinned. He held Orion closer as she smiled widely, then turned to Trailbreaker to hand him her bear.

He grinned as he took it, setting it on the deck for his daughter. Hound helped her to sit on it as Trailbreaker braced her. Then Ratchet lay the sparkling in her lap.

She put her arms around it, holding it with joy, then looked at Ratchet with a big smile. "I-N."

Ratchet nodded. "Orion."

Silverbow held the sparkling, gently touching its peds and holding a servo that was tightly balled into a fist in recharge. She touched Orion's nose and giggled, looking at Hound with immense pleasure.

Hound grinned back as Trailbreaker held her up on the bear as she explored the sleeping infant.

The ride back was different than any they had taken before. It was happy in a different way, the idea of going home. This time there were giggles and infants, the pleasure of watching a tiny femme being openly happy and mischievous, showing herself to the ones who loved her for the first time in a natural way.

The ride home brought the future back to the present and it was missed on no one on the shuttle.

=0=On Silverbolt, Prowl

Prowl and Prime sat together, their little mechs nearby playing with wooden toys they’d been given at Christmas Surprise by the human femmes. They had small wooden cars that they carried everywhere, their favorite toys their constant companions. They sat together making engine noises as they drove them around the adult's peds in that intergalactic way that boy children do in all forms, places and dimensions.

Prowl who was alternating between watching their legal charges playing sweetly and trying to decipher the new intel marveled in some part of his processor at the changes in the past few months. He was bonded, now legal genitor guardian of three small mechs as well as the genitor and bond guarantor of his eldest who was bonded himself. It was fraggin' wonderful. He smiled at the curse word. His parents would be scandalized. But they would also be astonished that he’d 'landed the big one' as Ratchet so inelegantly put it.

A Prime would make them proud.

Finally.

He pushed them back out of his mind, making sure that the negativity that they engendered in him didn't stay. He was a quiet emotionally contained individual that had been searching for warmth since he was able to understand his genitors were not going to give it to him. He had affairs, most notably with Sentinel Prime but they were always unsatisfying.

He was always dating his father.

They said once in a study you dated and/or bonded with your father or carrier. One of the other. For better or worse.

Worse mostly.

He was thinking they were right when Orion Pax came through the door all big and fantastically handsome and was introduced to him as Optimus Prime, the new Prime.

“Help him, Prowl, get up to speed, oh say, two orns ago.”

He’d been smitten the moment it occurred to him a few orns later that he wasn't a dumb aft, he was a dignified and extremely intelligent individual and  ****MOST OF ALL! MOST IMPORTANT OF ALL!** ** He was self assured, confident in his own  masculine side and willing to be wrong.

Willing.

To.

Be.

Wrong.

It’d been a shock to him that a Prime could be so calm, kind, smart and able. Sentinel had been another matter altogether. He had the ability to project all the same qualities but they were projections. He had an ego that didn't allow for the idea he could be wrong, that there might be others with ideas that could supersede his own in correctness and quality and when he wanted something he felt he was doing you a favor if you were anywhere near that want.

That’s how he ended up with him, old 'Mercy 'face Prowl' Sentinel had called his second. He’d somehow ascertained that Prowl was married to the Autobots, to the Cause, to doing his job beyond peak ability and uninterested in office gossip, office romance and placating his ego to the degree Sentinel required and had achieved with everyone else but Prowl. That had thrown down a challenge to Sentinel and he’d gone out of his way to be brazen, the seduce him, to humiliate him in front of others in his 'courtship' of the young winger.

Prowl who was uncertain about being able to keep his job running the show, taking care of soldiers and the Cause in relation to the ideas he had about ending the war swiftly and with the least damage to everyone eventually gave in and the short and not so sweet saga of 'Prowl and the Prime' began. Sentinel was his second Prime but it was a stock point of his life that he’d be gossiped about as 'Prime Stuff', someone who slept with Primes as a matter of course.

He didn't.

The first Prime he’d worked for, Nova, didn't pay attention to him, leaving him the bulk of the essential work but taking his counsel elsewhere. Nova didn't last long, fortunately, but the rumors did and Prowl knew that was part of what prompted Sentinel's attention. Prowl was a perk, some would whisper, usually those with only a scintilla of the talent, ability and raw intellect that Prowl possessed in abundance. Ambitious lesser lights were always hovering around so he heard a lot of slag that they circulated trying to undercut him. They couldn’t, he was that good. So Prowl became even more prim, more proper and closed off.

Until that is, he gave in and became Sentinel's lover.

He’d expected something exciting and different but it was no better than any of the others. That is, the two before him. They were non military, one a politician and the other a businessman. Both of them were as married to their careers as him and when they moved on to others more advantageous to their career advancements he was glad.

Relieved.

Completely happy.

Then Sentinel had badgered him and he’d given in, hating himself for doing so but ever hopeful that the right mech would come along eventually.

He didn't.

Not this one. He was egotistical, wanted him around when he needed him no matter what Prowl was doing and was a lousy 'face.

Truly.

As he sat on the deck, it occurred to Prowl that the only 'facing he’d ever experienced that wasn't complete crap was with Optimus. He wished at that moment he could dig up all three of his former lovers, Sentinel Prime included and laugh in their faces. Then he pushed that utterly unworthy and completely understandable fantasy away into the trash bin for recycling.

He had a life now he never imagined. He, of course, wasn't aware of the other side of the coin.

=0=Optimus

Optimus watched his sons, newly minted and legally theirs driving wooden cars around his peds. He watched them with fascination, these little mechs that were now his and Prowl's and felt an ocean of contentment settle into his spark. It had taken forever to find this oasis, the family life that he **never** once expected to have. He was Prime. All the rest came first. He was at the end of the line for Wants and Needs. What he wanted for himself, what he needed and dreamed about was last.

Then Prowl came into his life.

The first time he met him at the Citadel in the crush of introductions he’d found himself admiring the clean crisp beauty, if not the correct and military bearing of the one who would be his number two militarily. He found himself pleased that the face he’d have to see nearly all the time, nearly every day was so handsome, the voice who would be his counsel so soft and mellow.

Prowl had turned out to be 'terribly efficient' as others told him, 'intense', 'damned near infallible tactically', 'cold, uptight, prudish, repressed' and 'ultra 'face-able if you were a Prime'. He found out that almost none of it was true right out of the gate. Prowl was patient, he was thorough, kind, tough, smart as the Pit, gentle and thoughtful. He was the left side of Prime's processor. He was the one who would do whatever was needed until it was done almost to the detriment of his own well being.

He was also stubborn, brooded about things, argumentative when he thought he was right, had a nice right punch and could throw things including heavy furniture a long distance. He was as the humans say completely capable of Machiavellian maneuvering but always based on precise things, such as his carefully formulated plans which were always going into the dumper by those required to fulfill them.

Somewhere along the line, probably the second or third orn Prime found himself drawn to Prowl in a personal way that he’d never experienced before. That it was love and enormous personal affection, he didn't know. He was as oblivious as Prowl in that department but he had it.

Badly.

He’d heard the rumors but discounted them, seeing from Prowl's dedication and devotion nothing to validate them. He was dependable and invaluable and wonderful and sensual and from that moment onward Prime of Cybertron was in love.

Thank Primus for Ratchet and Ironhide being the unholy terrors that they were or he might not be sitting here watching his children play as he sat beside the love of his life.

It was funny how fast life could turn on a dime.

The Aerialbot flew onward taking Autobots and civilians back to Diego Garcia. They all streaked together through the endless night of space ever onward to the warmth and beauty of Earth.

  
  


Chapter 118

  
  


  
  


=0=In Houston, in a high rise, in a snit

Lydia Nast, a tall painfully thin blonde paced in her husband's office. She was what Truman Capote called 'a social x-ray' … thin, rich and socially active in moneyed and important civic circles. She belonged to the right megachurch, was active in charities, got her picture taken at the right events with the right people and got her children into the most exclusive private schools. Her gigantic McMansion was in Architectural Digest along with their 'cottage' in Aspen.

She was at the top of her game and equally as savvy and calculating as her husband who was missing. She was **convinced** he was missing. He hadn’t been home for the holidays, the height of the season in their set and therefore she’d been forced to go to the parties with an alternate, her father of all people, explaining to their 'friends' that 'Bill was busy'.

He hadn’t done more than send the usual e-mails that they shared to let each other know that things were well and not to worry. But it felt off.

Strange.

Worrisome.

She’d made the calls, waited a decent interval, then headed for the office determined to get answers. His secretary was no help. The usual communications were in order. The partners weren't helpful and a couple weren't available. She was on her own. So she locked herself in her husband's office and turned it upside down as she searched everywhere and everything for a clue. Sitting at his computer with his personal list of passwords and codes in hand from the place in his office he’d told her he hid it, she began to read.

^,,^

_To: Nast, William_

_From: High-Flyer_

_I haven’t heard from you. I’m disappointed that the rendezvous in Oregon wasn't successful. I’m very, very unhappy. I expect you to answer shortly or we shall have to take steps. You do not want that, Nast._

_High-Flyer_

^,,^

She considered that, the threat that was implied and worried more. Opening another, she continued.

^,,^

_To: Nast, William_

_From: High-Flyer_

_Good to finally hear from you. I’ve made contacts with my 'friends' and the package you want is not out of reach. We can make arrangements but you have to do something for me. I want you to meet with me. I will make the arrangements and arrange for security. All you have to do is arrive. I want you to remember our other partnerships, the 'deals' and consider how disappointed I will be if you do anything but come. I’m awaiting your reply._

_High-Flyer_

^,,^

Lydia felt fear rumble through her. Did he not show up? Did he show up and get killed? Where was he? She continued.

^,,^

_To: Nast, William_

_From: Inside Man_

_I haven't heard from you in a few days. The prize hasn't been seen for a while, neither of them. They must be inside. However, there are others. More come everyday and there are children. Children might be interesting. Let me know. I’m trying to find a way to smuggle out images but the security is so tight around here its like living inside a maximum security prison. If D can take them out himself, let me know. I can give them to him. I doubt that he has the same security routine as the rest of us._

_Inside Man_

^,,^

She thought about this, wondering who the children were and where this secure place was. Who was D? What kind of deal was Bill doing that required him to deal with children? It settled uneasily in her stomach, so she continued.

-0-

_To: Nast, William_

_From: High-Flyer_

_I’m arranging the meet up. Come alone. I personally guarantee your safety. I think a face-to-face will do us all good. I want a long term partnership with you, Nast, that’s mutually respectful. Your long term goals more than mesh with ours. I will send the times and place in a week. Until then, stay in touch and keep low._

_High-Flyer_

^,,^

Then another e-mail from 'Inside Man' over something so strange that she began to get a glimmer. "Robots.

_To: Nast, William_

_From: Inside Man_

_I haven't heard from you yet but you might want to know that the robots are going some place together for a few days. Apparently there’s some religious festival going on and they have to leave the planet to celebrate it. Sounds scary. Anyway, will let you know when they return. The account is looking good. Thank you._

_Inside Man_

^,,^

She sat preoccupied with a list of e-mails waiting to be opened and wondered again what sort of trouble her husband was in. She looked at the list dreading them even as she continued opening them one by one and finding less comfort in their contents as she read.

=0=Diego Garcia

They landed and off loaded, taking their gear and cheer with them into the facility. Optimus, Prowl, Jazz and Ironhide walked to Ops Center as Ratchet and Orion walked toward Med Bay. Ironhide who was looking at them go with longing followed Prime and the alpha crew into the command center heading toward Teletraan II.

Prowl checked things, then began to brief them on the intel that had been gathered so far with a couple of pieces answered back already on behalf of their brig prisoner, Nast.

"Lydia Nast is looking for her husband," he said. "Somehow, she’s aware that something’s wrong and has been seeking answers both inside the business and online. Here’s a brief outline of the correspondence that’s piled up during our absence."

Prowl explained as he showed the e-mails that High-Flyer wanted a face-to-face with Nast and was going to send the meet up coordinates in three days. There were e-mails from their mole, Inside Man who had talked about sending images out and mentioned the children as possible targets.

That had brought them to a halt. It was silent as a tomb as they considered that 'option', the theft and dismantling of their children. It was bad enough to discuss adult mechs but the children was shocking even for them.

"I want to be there when these fraggers are netted, Prime," Ironhide said softly.

"You and me both, Ironhide," Prime replied quietly. He nodded to Prowl to continue and the pensive winger did.

"Apparently Shockwave has picked up Starscream's ball and is running with it. He wants to see Nast and the next two e-mails show that he wants to meet up with Daniels and Galloway, too." He ran them.

^,,^

_To: Galloway, Theodore_

_From: High-Flyer_

_I’m delighted that you got my contribution to your election fund. It’s a joy to be able to support a candidate who’s so in tune with my own personal values and beliefs. I’ve been in touch with Daniels. Thank you and the Senate Majority Leader,_ _William_ _Daniels for the contact. I really like that young man,_ _Jason,_ _and see a great future for him in politics. Our country needs more like him. I would love to meet up with you and Daniels soon. It would be good to see each other and talk._

_I’ll let you know when and where. My schedule is pretty full but I’ll clear the time for both of you. I want to help you succeed. Take care and good work._

_High-Flyer_

^,,^

The second email was between Daniels and Galloway.

^,,^

_To: Theodore 'Ted' Galloway_

_From: Jason 'Jase' Daniels_

_Good to hear from you. Haven't heard from Nast. Apparently, he's gone underground to do something for High-Flyer. Don't know what it is but I’ll find out. I have an 'inside man' and he 'works' for Nast. Ha-ha. Little does Nast know._

_High-Flyer wants a meet up and I’ll try to be there. Right now, the Autobots have left the planet, going somewhere to do something 'religious'. I have a big picture of that. Religious robots. Machines with souls. Impossible._

_Right now, the children are out of sight. You don't see them except at night once in a while when a couple of them will bring one out and walk around. I hear there may be another one, a baby. Don't ask me how it can be. Maybe they open a can and pull one out. Robots fucking is beyond me. Having babies? Lord help us all._

_The base is waking back up and the robots are back, all of them coming back together this morning. I watched them and there seems to be even more than before but that could be that they haven't been out much in one bunch -new rules- and I could be seeing the same ones somehow._

_Don't know. Just know I'm sick of this place and will be glad to be shut of it. Glad my Dad and Grandpa can be of service to you and High-Flyer. What are friends in high places for if not to use that power toward things you want._

_I haven't heard from Nast in a while, try and contact him. He's a major player in the money game and will be a good one to ask to have his employees kick into your campaign fund. I’ll try to find out what I can here. We don't talk. The robots hate me and I hate them. They're still harassing my men but the base is on their side so we have to take it._

_Can't wait until they go. When High-Flyer sends you the time and place, let me know. Until then, ever soldiering onward,_

Jase

^,,^

They digested that, then Prowl played the last most current one.

^,,^

_To: Jason 'Jase' Daniels_

_From: Theodore "Ted" Galloway_

_Got your e-mail. Didn't know about the child. If you can get me information I could use it to my advantage. The idea of them breeding, a concept that I struggle with, too, will be a huge wedge issue for me in my campaign._

_I’ll be ready to meet with High-Flyer and will let you know if I hear from him first. I hope Nast is there, too, so we can get together on strategy. His money and our smarts. We can't fail._

_I would try to provoke more incidents with them if you can. The car 'accident' and the other events, especially the brig thing will work in our favor in the long run. Doesn't matter what the reports say. It can be spun._

_Try to keep the mole digging. I want as much as I can. The polls here are beginning to resonate and I want to keep the negatives coming. Especially anything on the sex angle and anything on gender. I want to know more about the gender angle. Homosexuality is the ultimate wedge issue and will put me over the top if I can show that our 'friends' the Autobots are homosexual in their practices no matter the idea of infants. Its all about impressions, Jase. Don't let me down._

_We have a winner._

_Ted_

^,,^

"Frag 'Ted' to the Pit. Frag all of them," Ironhide said with a voice filled with menace.

They all agreed.

Prime was silent a moment then glanced at the comm center. "Its time to reply," he said to Prowl. "Let them know that Nast is up to a meeting and that he would love to be there. Let Shockwave … High-Flyer know that we're on his side. And as for the mole, Inside Man, I want him shadowed. Have Mirage follow him during the times he is awake until further notice. Report even the most trivial things. And I want the children hidden from view. They do not come out at any time of the day for any reason. We have to protect them with everything we have got."

"They still are interested in Springer and Arcee," Jazz replied nodding.

"They are. They will stay at Autobot City." Prime looked as grim as they’d ever seen him. "Maybe its time we think about how we can meet up with Shockwave. Plan B, Prowl," he said. "I want plans on our plans. I want teams ready to roll for combat at a moment's notice. Have them in place. Even if we do not use them, we will be prepared."

They nodded, then walked to their stations to make it all happen.

Ironhide and Prime watched. "Ironhide, you protect our children," Prime said. "That is all you have to do on base from now on."

Ironhide nodded then walked to the youngling play room and the guardians inside. After checking the situation there, he went to Med Bay and his own sparkling, then Ratchet to deliver the latest threat personally.

=0=Med Bay

He walked in, looking here and there, noticing that it was empty but for Ratchet who was looking at datapads. Orion was asleep in a cushion lined box on the couch nearby. Ironhide kissed Ratchet's cheek and turned to the infant, looking at him with tenderness as he lay on his back recharging, the little booties still on his peds.

"Shockwave has taken over as High-Flyer," Ironhide said as his optics fixed upon his sparkling. "He wants a meet up with Nast, Daniels and Galloway."

Ratchet put down his datapad. "I'm not surprised. He wants to sink in the hooks."

Ironhide glanced at Ratchet. "The mole is working for Daniels, too, not just Nast."

"Nast is going to be unhappy when we tell him," Ratchet said smirking at the news. "What's wrong?" he asked as he studied Ironhide. "There's something wrong."

Ironhide turned to him. "They're talking about the younglings and our sparkling as targets."

For a moment Ratchet didn't move or speak, then he jerked with surprise as he reached down to pick up the baby to hold him closely. "What?" he gasped.

"Nothing is going to happen to our younglings or Orion. Prime gave me the job of protecting them," he said. "Nothing, not even Unicron will lay a servo on them. I promise you, Ratchet."

Ratchet looked at him, then down at Orion who was looking back at him with bright blue optics. He glanced at Ironhide. "I'll help you," he said quietly, as filled with conviction as he could have ever thought possible.

  
  


Chapter 119

  
  


  
  


=0=A bit later in the Med Bay

He sorted out instruments, concentrating on the task at hand when he felt rather than saw the gaze of someone upon him. Ratchet glanced up then jumped and shouted as tools went flying. Sitting at eye level perched on two big black servos a little sparkling watched with unblinking blue optics as his carrier flew apart. The servos were attached to black burly arms that disappeared into the doorway. The sparkling sat on the servos hovering at 15 feet in the air as if floating.

"What the frag?" Ratchet cried out with his servos on hips. "Ironhide?"

A big grinning face peered around the corner of the doorway looking at Ratchet alongside a small slightly confused sparkling. "Hi, Ratchet. Orion wanted to say hi."

"Hovering him at eye level without a warning is not hello," Ratchet said taking his infant with a smile. "I nearly drew down on you. It could’ve been goodbye." He smiled at the sparkling, hugging and kissing him, then cuddling him against his cheek. He glanced at the big swaggering goof ball leaning against the doorjamb with a smirk on his face.

"Tell me he isn't the cutest sparkling you ever saw," Ironhide said, taking him back to tuck him into the crook of his arm.

"Won't get an argument from me," Ratchet said. "What have you two been doing? Guarding us from the slaggers?"

"Language, Ratchet," Ironhide said as he walked over to sit in Ratchet's chair. He sat the infant on Ratchet's desk. He was wobbly so Ironhide steadied him with his servos. "We've been practicing our stealth moves."

"Hovering him at eye level around the corner of doors is a stealth move?" Ratchet asked as he sat in a chair across from them.

"One of the better ones. We just made it up," Ironhide said. "This sparkling has skills."

Ratchet chuckled. "I see that he has. Did you wash your servos?"

Ironhide frowned. "He's been doing that all morning. Sucks on my digits and any place else he can reach. What's **that** all about, Ratchet?"

"I don't know. I think they do that for comfort. Did you feed him?"

"I did."

"Did you empty his little bottom?"

"I did."

"Feed him again, Ironhide. He might be needing more."

[Opens panel, tugs cord] "Okay, spud, open up." [tap, tap, tap]

[Pause]

"Try it again." [grin] "I love his little frown." [medico in heaven]

[Tap, tap, tap] "Open up."

[Little blue optics narrow] "Chew, chew. Splut."

[Pause]

[tap, tap, tap] "Chew, chewchewchew. Splut."

"I don't think he's hungry, Ironhide."

"But he's chewing on **me**. It feels … uh, odd."

[Pause]

"Did you wash your servos?"

"Not lately."

"Ironhide, you don't want that sparkling chewing on something that might have gun oil on it or whatever slag you stuck your mitts in?"

"Language, Ratchet."

"I'll **give** you language. Go wash your servos or … wait a minute."

[Walk, walk, walk. Pause. Rummage.  ****FIND** ** **!** ] "I found this in the duffel from Autobot City. A femme gave it to me and told me I’d probably need it." [Sits. Holds out object. Both stare. Sparkling stares.]

"What is it?"

"You put it in their mouth and they suck on it. Gives them comfort or something.  ****AND** ** I might add it will lower the level of toxic waste he has in his mouth at any one time."

"What do you do with it?"

"You put it in their mouth and they suck on it."

[Take, tap, tap, tap] **"SUCK!"**

[Pause]

"Suck, suck, suck. Splut. Pllf."

"Wow. He **really** doesn't like it, Ratchet."

"Maybe it doesn't taste good. Stick it in your armpit, Ironhide, then give it to him."

[piercing optic] "I’ll have you know we **both** went to the wash racks this morning."

**"** ****AND YOU DIDN'T GET ME?** ** **"**

"We were bonding."

" **Bonding, my aft. Ironhide! Get me when he does his first stuff or I'll beat you with a hammer!** "

"See? Your carrier is a loon."

Tiny blue optics look up at father, then over at his other father, then back at the goofy dad, over at mad father, goofy father, mad, goofy. Then tiny blue optics close as sparkling wobbles from dizziness.

"Try it again. He looks in a weakened condition."

"So we exploit him when he's most vulnerable? What kind of carrier are you?"

"The best kind. One only has to look at you to know I'm slaggin' good at raising sparklings."

"Ha-ha. And language."

"Put it in his mouth, Ironhide."

[Tap, tap, tap] "Suck."

They both watch breathless.

He watches them warily.

"Suck. Suck."

"It looks good, Ratchet."

"Splut."

[Pause]

"I think he hates me."

"You ** big  ** ****sparkling** ** . He's only  ** five orns old ** . How can he like or dislike  **anything** ?"

[tap, tap, tap] "Suck. Sucksucksuck."

[Pause]

"Sucksucksuck." [grin]

"He  ** likes it ** ."

"Good, Ironhide. You’ll be glad some night when he won't sleep and just needs comfort and I’ll be glad I won't have to use Clorox on his little pie hole because he sucked on your thumb and got something deadly in his mouth."

"I wash."

[Piercing optic.]

"Most of the time."

"Uh-huh."

"We visited Uncle Optimus."

"You did? How did that go?"

"He really likes sparklings but he gets nervous when Prowl holds him. Even with four mechs of his own, Prowl likes sparklings and gets That Look™."

"What Look?"

"The one you got."

"What Look did I get, Ironhide?" [Fixes Only One with That Look™]

"The one that said, 'I need a sparkling and I don't care who I kill,' the one that makes grown mechs cry."

" **Awww**. Did I make you cry?" [grin]

"You did." [Grins at sparkling] "Your old carrier made me cry."

Tiny blue optics regard him. [grin]

"He grinned at me."

"He can't believe his old pa is such a doofus."

"Doofus, another word for Chaos Bringer." (Grins at son. Son grins back.)

[Pause]

"Actually, Ironhide, I think you're right." [Snort]

[Pause]

"Let me rephrase that."

"How are the younglings?"

"They're good. No one goes outside until further notice."

"I want to be there, Ironhide, when these people are arrested."

"You and me both, Ratchet."

"He needs his nap now, Ironhide. I left his little blankie in the bed in the cabin."

"Blankie?"

"Blankie. Oh, and the thing in his mouth? It's called a binky."

[Pause]

"Our little mech has a binky ... and a blankie?"

[grin] "Yes, Ironhide. Unless that's not macho enough for you."

"I'm not going there with you, Ratchet. I usually end up with a crow bar across the kisser."

"I won't swing for your kisser. Uh, what about a little kissie-kissie later."

"I'm supposed to be on duty for the younglings. How can I go and have some kissie-kissie with you, Ratch?"

"They take naps, too. Don't they? You're the one in charge of them. You  ****do** ** know that makes you a glorified babysitter."

"I don't think the average babysitter carries cannons, Ratchet."

"True, but I don't think the average babysitter is a chaos bringer either."

"No," Ironhide said rising with a smug look on his face. "I’m probably the only chaos bringing babysitter on planet Earth."

"You probably are. I don't think even google will tell us otherwise."

He grinned as he tucked his sparkling into the crook of his arm. "Indubitably."

Ratchet grinned. "Where are you going now?"

"I'm going to show him the armory and see what his preferences are for ordinance."

"Ah, another bonding venture."

"Sure," he said, pausing by the door. "If you want us, we'll be in the grenade aisle." He walked out the door with his sparkling.

Ratchet smiled as they left. "Anyone else but me would slap your aft for that, Ironhide. You don't **know** how good ya got it, you slagger," he said, rising to walk back to the counter.

=0=In the corridor

" **There he is!** ** **So cute!**** … what's that in his mouth?"

"That's his … uh, his binky."

"Binky?" [grin]

"Yeah. Binky." [frown]

"Oh." [smirk]

Ironhide watched the mech walk away, his frown deepening even more. Looking down at his little sparkling, his binky moving as he sucked on it, his tiny blue optics never leaving his dad's face, he grinned. "It may be a binky but you suck it like a champion. Those slaggers don't know what they're thinking."

**"LANGUAGE, IRONHIDE!"**

He turned around to see Ratchet poking his helm out of the Med Bay, grinning like a banshee. He grinned back then walked toward the armory and the 'big boy toys'.

Chapter 120

=0=Near the Administration Building

He walked out from his duties sauntering over to the mess hall. He was happy. Things were going his way. Daniels paid well and so did Nast. Daniels knew about Nast but Nast didn't know about Daniels. Playing both off against each other was good business. He was making a nest egg against the future, Nast was going to give him a job when his enlistment was up shortly, a position that would only enhance his value to Daniels and he was going to have the life he always wanted.

No harm, no foul.

The sun was warm on his face and he made his way with a smile. Behind him unseen and unheard Mirage followed standing close enough to watch and hear anything and everything. He’d been given the brief to be Inside Man's shadow. Day and night, every moment he was awake, Mirage was there.

Entering the building to join three other soldiers, he walked with them to lunch. Nearby, sitting on the ground in an out of the way spot Mirage waited invisible to everyone but Primus.

=0=Inside

They sat together eating lunch and talking  about things, mostly home . Four young soldiers from a cross section of America, they enjoyed each others company. He was the  western  guy from Idaho, a guy who loved to fish, hunt, hike and camp. Entering the military was what his family did, sending soldiers to the services since before the Civil War. His family was hardworking and decent, wanting everything for their kids. 

He was the youngest of four, the fourth one to enter the service and the first one to put his asp i rations higher than a good job in a profession that would allow weekends off and an income great enough for the ubiquitous boat and pick up truck his family favored. None of the others would conceive of what he’d done but none of them wanted what he wanted. He wanted what he wanted  ** now ** . Not later. Not in the next life.

** Now ** .

They chatted about life back in the world and wondered what people would think about the sights here.

"These guys are something else. I wish we could take pictures. I’d love for people back home to know that I'm hanging out with gigantic thinking robots," a boy from Cincinnati said. "Can't find this shit in the old neighborhood."

"No," Inside Man said. "I think if more people could see and know them they would love them. I do. I respect them. Some of them more than others. The twins … those two are just … dangerous. But I like Sideswipe. He's easier than Sunstreaker. I think if Sunstreaker accidentally stepped on you he’d just shake you off and keep going."

The others nodded. "I love the way they roll. Their design is awesome. Have you seen them corner? I've seen Sideswipe turn on a 70 degree angle. No one should be able to stay upright," a young man from Florida said.

"His gyros must be awesome." Inside Man considered that. "There are people out there that would pay unlimited money to have one of them and take them apart."

"Parasites," the youngster from New York said with a sneer. "They’d take them apart, make weapons and sell them to our enemies. We’d end up being fried by laser cannons and melted by plasma weapons. Parasites."

"You don't believe in the free enterprise system?" Inside Man asked with a grin. "Someone's gotta make the stuff that people want to buy and someone's gotta get the designs to do it."

"By taking an Autobot apart?" the New Yorker asked. "By betraying an ally and killing them so some corporation gets to sell weapons to our enemies to kill us? Man, what's the **matter** with you?"

He shrugged. "I'm not sayin' its right. I'm just sayin' it happens."

"If someone **lets** it happen," the New York kid replied. "These guys are our allies and the fight like … machines," he said with a grin. "Pun intended. I like them. I love watching them. I only wish I could drive them. Have you ever seen so many sweet rides in one place at one time ever?"

"No. I love those Lamborghinis. But they scare the shit out of me. I’ve been reading up on them," the kid from  Ohio said. "That yellow Lambo can go from 0-60 in 0.2 seconds.  ****SECONDS** ** **!"**

"I love the Camaro. I love muscle cars. And the Ferraris, the Ligier is sweet and the pickups. I love the Topkick pickups," the kid from Florida said. "The green and yellow one isn't around much but the black one … he's just bad ass."

"Yeah," the kid from New York replied. "Optimus … he's just so big he needs the truck alt form. Peterbilts are my favorite truck design. I like Macs but I think its because I like the bulldog hood ornaments."

"Prime has an Autobot head for his," Inside Man said. "I like looking for the designations. They all have them but you have to look."

"I like figuring out what they can do," Cincinnati said. "I hear that they can see for miles; some of them can make force fields and one of them can be invisible."

"Invisible?" Inside Man asked with surprise.

"Yeah," Cincinnati said. "That blue and white Ligier … he can be invisible."

"No shit?" Inside Man asked with astonishment.

"No shit," Cincinnati said. "It's a Ligier JS 43 and it won its formula 1 racing circuit in 1996. Vintage, elegant and class all the way."

Outside, Mirage smiled. /... classic … elegant … class … I **like** you, Cincinnati boy .../

"Invisible," Inside Man repeated softly almost to himself. Then he rejoined the conversation again.

Outside, analyzing the conversation Mirage came to the same conclusion that Inside Man did. He was a valuable commodity and the mercenaries who wanted one of them might find him among the most valuable.

=0=In Ops Center

:Jazz here:

:Hello, lover. I'm following our prey and he seems infatuated with my invisibility:

[Pause]

:How do ya know?:

:One of the more astute soldiers who was talking about my classic elegant and most classy alt form mentioned that he thought I might have that capability. Inside Man seemed smitten. Deeply:

Jazz grinned. :He has good taste:

:I agree: A smile reached Jazz even though he couldn't see it and he returned it in kind.

:I'll tell Optimus:

:Good. They're coming out. See you later:

:Count on it. Jazz out:

Mirage arose to watch as the small creatures walked out of the building. Two went back to the Administrative Building and two including Inside Man walked toward the Autobot HQ. He followed to one side pausing to let them catch up but he didn't miss a single word. Inside Man was talking to the Florida boy about cars.

Outside the Autobot Embassy cars were lounging in the sunshine. Most of them were exotic and built for speed and endurance. All of them conformed to the limitations imposed by the height and mass of the Autobots that inhabited them. None of them were chosen for prurient or speculative reasons. All of them were fast, big, well made, durable due to the bot’s personal frames and enhanced. None of them were street quality vehicles, even the Topkick trucks that big bruisers like Ironhide chose or the Hummers like Ratchet. All of them were enhanced with things Detroit could only dream about and with speeds sometimes many tens of degrees what their normal counterparts could manage they were devastating in combat and could endure well past that of normal configurations.

They stood nearby admiring them, walking as close as they dared and for a moment it was as if two kids were admiring great cars at a show. But in the back of Mirage's mind they or at least one of them were predators checking out the prey.

When Bumblebee drove up and roared to a stop while getting hooted at over the internal comm link that no one but Autobots hear, they watched, then walking toward him as Sam, his mother and father got out with dogs in hand.

Calling out they came up, they introduced themselves as a friendly conversation took place. As they did Bumblebee transformed and taking leave walked inside. The two soldiers watched him with admiration, the fabulousness of his gleaming yellow alt form still glowing in his root configuration. His parents excused themselves and began to walk to the barracks where N.E.S.T. HQ was. Sam stayed with the soldiers through the rest of the afternoon and by nightfall had found two new friends.

Mirage who was making note of that considered if it was an asset or a loss. He would leave it up to Prowl and Prime. They would know. By the time it was nightfall the soldiers retired and Mirage was off duty until sunrise. He walked to the HQ to debrief and spend the rest of the night with Jazz.

=0=Sam and Inside Man

They walked along the beach talking about home. Both were western boys, both loved hot cars and both had girls that they cared about a lot. Inside Man liked Sam personally and enjoyed his company but Sam was also tight with the Autobots, being chauffeured around by one of the hottest full time. He didn't know why. Something to do with the Allspark, whatever that was, but he also knew he was the inside track for him to gather intel.

They talked about everything and by the time they got onto the subject of the Autobots Sam was comfortable and ready for friendship with someone besides his parents, his car and a couple of the other soldiers who were officers and busy. Being trapped on the island in the name of personal security had been hard even with the town, beaches that were world class and amenities for the population. After nearly three months 'captivity' he was ready for diversion.

"What are they like?" he asked looking up at the stars overhead.

"Fine. Normal. They're alien but familiar." Sam sat ironically on the stones that the Autobots used for their parties watching as the Pegasus constellation shifted overhead.

"But they're aliens," Inside Man replied. "I love them but they're alien. How do you relate?"

Sam considered that question  then grinned . "I don't really. I just do." He  thought a moment as he watched the moon’s reflection on the still dark waters of the sea . "They make more effort to relate to us than we do to them. I find them mostly very comfortable because they take time and effort to learn about us, how to speak to us, what to do. I ’ve reall y had to adapt so little that I didn't even notice it until you said something. I mean, I know they're aliens and can transform and all that. I mean, my  ****CAR** ** is an alien. But the day-to-day relating? I’ve had to do so little because they’ve already done so much."

He nodded. "I like them. I admire them. I hear one of them can be invisible."

"Mirage," Sam said unwittingly. "He's the formula one car, the Ligier. He's sort of hard to know. Hangs with Jazz. But he can be invisible. I've seen him do it. It's the coolest and weirdest thing I've ever seen."

"I would love to be able to do that," Inside Man said.

"Me, too," Sam said arising to stretch. "Let's go down here," he said pointing to a smooth beach near bigger rocks. "Its cool."

Inside Man nodded as the walked onward. They didn't know they weren't alone. They didn't know that Hound was nearby shadowing them, listening in to record every word. It bothered him that the enemy had managed to unwittingly co-opt Sam, their Allspark but he knew it wasn't Sam's fault. He was on their side. He was one of them. They would protect him the same as they would any other Autobot because to them he was one, too.

=0=Morning

The twins rolled out heading toward the firing range. They rolled slowly along soaking up the sun and admiring the shine on each others bodies. The night before had been rowdy and after whooping it up and a fling with Bluestreak they’d decided to buff each other to the nth degree.

Bluestreak, half in the bag and smiling over the idea of two beautiful Autobots enamored in amour over his body and soul lay in a stupor of satisfaction as they waxed and buffed him to a mirror finish. Falling into a stuperous sleep he wasn't aware that they did the same to each other until morning when the glare nearly blinded him.

"You two are too pretty," he said, walking down the corridor with them to the rec room and breakfast. "Honestly, I'm blinded by your beauty."

They both preened and smirked, their servos gripping Blue's. When they finished breakfast with Bluestreak heading for duty in the Ops Center, they decided to shoot something up 'fraggin' good' at the firing range. It was getting warmer and the sky overhead was devoid of clouds for once. Passing the merc's barracks they smiled as those sitting outside got up and went inside, giving up ground at the sight of the two most feared Autobots among them.

****"FRAGGERS!"** ** Sunstreaker called out  as he  paus ed before the barracks. He bent  slightly to look into the windows. ****"FRAGGIN' COWA** ** ****RDS!”** ** He laughed aloud  then roll ed along with his brother who glanced back  to see faces in the window. 

Sunstreaker rolled backwards, his blades slipping in and out of his wrist guards.  ****"SLAGGERS!"** **

Laughing together as the mercs stepped back from the window, they continued on and blew up a number of targets for about an hour.

Inside the barracks nine mercs watched them including the four who had left the patio when they came into view. It was sobering to watch them, two killing machines without an ounce of fear. They didn't know they were half in the bag, having celebrated their 'second decaorn anniversary' with the third mech who was their trine mate. They would never know that. That part of their life was theirs.

The mercs would know a lot about them. They would know that the twins were among the fiercest creatures the universe had thus shown to exist, that they were fearless and violent in a controlled explosion sort of way and that nothing a human could do or show would ever slow them down if they had to protect someone.

They wouldn't know that they were serious about protecting the Earth, that even if Sunstreaker didn't care for humans he would never hurt one without orders or a fraggin' good reason. That Optimus Prime considered them true blue and valiant. That they obeyed their commanders in combat and were prepared to sacrifice themselves for others, that they would cheat to win and that Bluestreak was the love of their shared and individual lives.

They would never know that. They would, however, know that to frag with one of them was a very, very bad idea.

As they rolled past giving hard looks of hatred to the barracks 'just because', the mercs counted their blessings. Given their behavior and even their orders to pick their moments to disrupt they were all lucky to be alive. Mirage, sitting nearby listening to Inside Man chat with his duty mates found himself smirking at their comments. /... if you only truly knew .../

Chapter 121

=0=Ops Center and Prowl

The e-mail responses had been sent and now he waited. Other tasks had to be done. Masses of data that rolled in around the clock from around the world and beyond had to be analyzed. Data on the goings on at Autobot City had to be considered, responded to and routed to the correct department heads as well. More reports of gangs trying to get weaponry were coming in. It never ended, so he sat at Teletraan with three datapads spread out before him. He’d plugged into the console to get information directly from the seething mass of raw data piling up, picking out what he needed to make informed decisions about plans being formulated in different locations in his processor, logic nexus and battle computers all at the same time.

Optimus wanted a dozen or so possibilities sorted out and counter measures drawn up, personnel selected and infrastructure in place to take them at a moment's notice. Around him the crew worked at their usual peak level of efficiency. They were pros and knew what to do. The morning staff meeting would be held later this night so that all who were involved would be able to put their pieces of the mosaic on the table for the others to see.

Right now, Mirage was on Inside Man.

Prowl had sent the e-mails to Shockwave and some to Galloway, Daniels and Lydia Nast posing as Bill Nast.

Optimus was handling the soldiers, going to N.E.S.T. meetings and managing a new demand by the Senate for another hearing.

Jazz was taking care of dealing the local intel and working out the possible angles for special operations that the situation as fluid as it was might present.

Ironhide was managing building wide security with emphasis on the younglings and his own sparkling.

Everyone was busy and tense.

It was a normal day at Diego Garcia.

=0=Ironhide and Orion

He stood in the doorway watching the children sitting together on the floor gathered around Red Alert who’d come up in the voluntary rotation to work in the youngling room on off duty time. He was showing them a book with pictures telling them about fire engines, about putting out fires and general damage control procedures. They were enthralled and he was tightly wound but ecstatic.

Ironhide was amused and Orion was gawking around as he sat in his father's arm tucked into the crook that was becoming his favorite place to sit.

Red Alert answered questions, then they all broke to play, building houses and structures go ‘burn them down', practicing the things that they’d just learned. Red Alert walked around telling them how to tighten up an escape route, what would happen when a second story block house fell from a flash over and other general but pithy observations. It was all terribly amusing.

Ironhide looked down at his 'little buddy'. "You wanna be a fireman?"

Orion looked at him, his optic ridges frowning as he strained to understand the comments of his father. They were so much noise to him but comforting. They were the noises of the figure who along with his carrier/creator mattered the most to him.

Ironhide smiled as he raised Orion up, holding his tiny body in both his servos. He kissed him then put him back in the crook of his arm, walking out to begin the rounds of the building to check every possible point of entry and exit. Then they would go to Med Bay for Orion's carrier/creator to snuggle, kiss, feed, snuggle, kiss and snuggle him before putting him down for his nap.

Orion would recharge soundly with Ironhide sitting nearby fidgeting, reading or chatting with someone until his 'little buddy' awoke and they would make the same journey again, making sure that the embassy was as snug as could be.

=0=Ops Center and Prowl

The emails began to arrive so Prowl marked them for the meeting, finding that they were intermediate replies. That is, they were acknowledgments about meet ups and the informational e-mails of actual times and places would be coming up later on in the week. It depended on clearing the schedule and finding the best possible venue for all involved. Daniels, Galloway and 'William Nast' were going to go. They’d intercepted Lydia Nast's e-mails so that Shockwave wouldn’t know about her and he didn't.

So far.

It was a juggling game but important enough that they could deal a significant blow to the Decepticons if they succeeded. They would also be preventing harm to Mrs. Nast.

=0=Shockwave

He sat plugged into the console of the Nemesis. Arriving orns before he’d sifted every possible corner of the ship, every byte of data, every cast off bit of flotsam trying to understand two things. First, the disposition of the Seekers. They were gone and he would have them. He would search the entire galaxy until he found them. Secondly, Starscream had been playing at a dangerous game. He had a good idea but had fallen through on execution.

As ever.

The parts of the whole were sound. There was enormous amounts of human currency gathered together to use to co-opt the players that were necessary to the outcome. It was gathered from those who would least be able to do anything about it; drug dealers, gun runners, slavers and the like. They had contributed albeit unwillingly to the downfall of their world in more ways than just their own actions and activities.

A number of steps had been taken. A partial ownership in Intel-Martin and its subsidiaries to use as a cover for Decepticon activity was genius. Bringing egotistical humans of influence into his sphere was also genius. The framework was sound. The actions within that framework weren't. He would have to apply his ruthless logic to the problem to work out a smoother transition from where they were to where they wanted to be and then execute it.

First, he would meet with the humans, Galloway, Nast and Daniels. He would show them a side of High Flyer that they didn't know existed. Then he would make good on the contracts with Nast to deliver him Autobots as agreed-upon. The mole Starscream was playing had told them of younglings and a sparkling present among the Autobot garrison.

The idea of it was stunning, infants among their own kind an almost unheard of thing. Rumors among the colonies had spoken of such but it was unfounded. Either they were in existence but hidden from him or someone was telling him lies or myths. He could use younger subjects in his work. There was much to do with perfecting his species and they would be more than a little useful.

Then there was the problem with Autobot City.

Prime had made a fortress on the fourth planet from the human's sun. They’d created a system of alarms that wouldn’t allow easy entrance into the system. He’d have to ponder that. A lot of things had come to pass that would’ve been destroyed quickly if he’d been here. However, Cybertron had taken longer than he considered to rebuild. The space bridges, now in partial working order had taken longer. Some things had been forgotten.

He considered it all and the biggest question as well... where was Megatron? What had happened to him and where was he? That he didn't know. He would take it one step at a time and with logic and a lack of emotional engagement he would unwind the ball of string that had been cast aside with the disappearance of the Seekers and find a way to salvage things before there was more unrest in the empire than there already was.

=0=Ops Center and Prowl

Ironhide made his rounds then walked into Ops Center pausing beside Prowl at Teletraan II. Looking at the data stream he grinned. "Shockwave wants a meet up."

"It appears so," Prowl said reaching over to take Orion into his servos. Smiling and cooing, he hugged the infant to his chassis. Patting its little aft, he began punching up the texts of the e-mails. As Ironhide read them Prowl tended to the sparkling who was happy to be with anyone who wanted to hold him.

Grinning around his binky, Orion looked at the red chevron of the handsome winger who held him so gently. Reaching up, he tried to grab it, falling very short of his target.

"How do you suppose he’ll greet everyone? Holograms?"

"Hard to say, Ironhide," Prowl said looking up from the sparkling. "I don't know if he's going to have a front person, make a hologram or just expose himself to them and scare them into cooperation. His logic and mine don't cross paths very easily."

"You aren't evil," Ironhide said scrolling them down as he read.

Prowl chuckled. "Thank you, Ironhide. I try."

Ironhide glanced a Prowl with a grin. "He likes you, Prowl."

"I like him," Prowl replied. "I’ve been responsible for four younglings but never a sparkling. I love them, sparklings, oddly enough. They’re so small and cute. This sparkling, Ironhide, is the cutest thing I've ever seen."

"He is," Ironhide said grinning with pride. "What about you and Prime?"

Prowl shrugged, his expression hard to read. His eyes never left the sparkling. "I don't know. It’ll have to be seen. But I expect more sparklings among the mechs now that they’ve seen this one and Gear Shift coming up on separation. I hope so."

"So do I," Ironhide said moving to sit across from Prowl and his sparkling. "That sparkling is the second best thing that’s ever happened to me."

Prowl looked up with a nod. "I know what you mean." He looked at the sparkling. "I really like you, Orion. You’re one cute little sparkling."

Orion who was looking at Prowl's chevron smiled. Then he chirped, the first sound he ever made on his own besides crying.

Prowl looked at Ironhide as surprise suffused his face.

Ironhide whose optic ridges disappeared somewhere behind his head leaned forward to look at his son. "You little slagger, you," he said with a smile.

Orion grinned back. Around his binky.

=0=Med Bay shortly after

**"** ****IRONHIDE! HOW THE FRAG CAN YOU KEEP DOING THIS AND NOT GET ME!** ** **?"**

"Ratchet, it was just Ops Center and he was just sitting there looking around. It was just Ops Center."

**"** ****I DON'T CARE! YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO COME AND GET ME** ** **!"**

"Ratchet..."

**"** ****I DON'T CARE** ** **!"**

=0=Ops Center and Prowl

He came back from an afternoon of meetings tired and drained. The Senate was going to require another meeting. It would be about the 'problems' of the personnel at the base with the Autobots among other things. Beau Weaver had gotten control of the committee and was going to be using it to revisit the treaties that were signed previously. They wanted to have Optimus Prime come himself but he’d refused.

Since they were paying their own way now with the proceeds of their patents and the resulting products that supplied alternatives to oil based energy they had more leeway in what they would agree to or not. Another issue were the products themselves which were going to make a dent in the energy market worldwide earning the wrath of oil producers who were major campaign contributors to the committee members among others.

He walked onto the command deck and steered his way to Teletraan II, smiling at Prowl. Pulling up a chair to sit he explained the complications. Getting updated by his SIC, he then arose, pulling Prowl to his peds. "Better call the senior staff together. We have to figure out what we are going to tolerate and what we can tell them is off limits. I also think an update on Shockwave is in order."

Prowl opened a channel base wide. Speaking in Cybertronian he called them together. {Senior Autobot staff and department heads, meet in the conference room right now. Thank you}

Walking together, they made their way to the conference room nearby. Moments later a harassed looking Ratchet carrying his sparkling and a contrite Ironhide following joined them to sit in their usual places. Others came just as quickly and they began.

Prowl pulled the file up on the e-mails and they read them together.

-0-

_To: Daniels, Jase, Galloway, Ted and Nast, William_

_From: High Flyer_

_I am glad to hear that you find my suggestion to meet together a good one. I am in the middle of some negotiations and will be sending instructions about where to come and when by Thursday this week._

_I would like to discuss the projects that have been on the table for some time, the collaborations and new ones as well. I am aware that this is a high risk security venture but I assure you that I will provide security for all and we shall meet in a secluded venue._

_Wait for my e-mail on Thursday and come to the location your e-mails will specify. Private planes will bring you to the meeting. I want this to be as quiet as we can make it and without the added burden of a lot of extra people that add nothing._

_Until then,_

_High Flyer_

-0-

_To: High Flyer_

_From: Jason 'Jase' Daniels_

_Good to hear from you. I’ll be leaving Diego Garcia tonight to return to Virginia. I’ll be free then to ride to your venue with Ted Galloway. I’m delighted to talk to you about the 'projects' and any new collaborations as well. It’s good to be in the company of like minded people. I’ll inform my father and grandfather about my absence here in Diego Garcia. I want you to know that they are men of influence and will be very interested in what you have to tell me. Until then,_

_Jase Daniels_

-0-

_To: High Flyer_

_From: Ted Galloway_

_I’m glad to hear from you at last. The projects have been a fiasco and Bill can explain them when we all get together. Jase Daniels is coming here and we can come together. Looking forward to a productive meeting. I wish also to tell you that it’s imperative given my candidacy that this be as quiet as possible._

_Until then,_

_Ted Galloway_

-0-

"Well, it looks like they’re getting together. What about Nast?" Perceptor asked.

"We’ve been doing the correspondence for Nast," Prowl said. "We’ve also been intercepting what Lydia Nast sent and so far she's got no place to go to find him. She’s aware that something is up but not what it is."

"When are we going to pull him into this? I think it might be good to scare him to death and have him go to the meeting," Ironhide said smiling at his sparkling resting as he was in Ratchet's arms. He looked at Prime. "Unless you have something else in mind."

Prime looking at the sparkling himself looked up. "I agree."

"With what? Scaring Nast, sending him or what?" Ironhide said looking at his sparkling again.

"Both," Prime said sitting back. "I want to have a chat with him tomorrow. I think once we explain the situation and what he's liable for he might be willing to be on our side for leniency later on. I also believe if he knew he was implicated in crimes with Decepticons he’ll be receptive."

"I want to be there for the interview," Ratchet said with a grim expression.

"Me, too," Ironhide said. "This could be fun. Why not have Springer and Arcee there, too?"

Prime grinned as he glanced Prowl. "Make it so," he said quietly.

Prowl agreed with pleasure.

=0=That night

"That’s one cute little sparkling."

"I agree."

"Are we getting a sparkling?" T-Bar asked as he walked to his father and climbing into Prime's lap. "That’s a cute little sparkling. He can't talk."

"Not yet," Prime said pulling the youngster into his lap. "Soon."

"I like sparklings," T-Bar said settling into Prime's arms.

Prowl grinned. "So do I."

Prime glanced at Prowl and swallowed. "Time for recharge," he said rising to gather T-Bar into his arms. " **Time for recharge!** " he said brightly as he walked toward the bedroom with youngling mechs in tow.

=0=In the bosom of love

"Are you still mad at me?"

" ** Yes ** ."

"I'm sorry, Ratchet. Half of what happens just happens and I couldn't get you anyway. Not in time."

"Taking him for his first visit to the wash racks is not spur of the moment. Taking him to see Ops Center for the first time is not spur of the moment.  ****I WANT TO SEE HIM SEE THINGS FOR THE FIRST TIME, TOO** ** **!** What else have you done without me?" Ratchet sat in the chair by the berth  with Orion feeding from the line at his wrist.

"Uh, nothing. Really." He considered the other times he’d taken Orion to Ops Center and prayed to Primus Ratchet wouldn't find out. That and the other places.

And people.

And things they looked at.

And games they played.

Or Ironhide played and Orion watched.

Like roll the dummy grenade. Orion liked that game.

He also prayed to Primus that Ratchet didn't find out about that one either.

" ** What? ** " A piercing optic pierced him.

"We just wandered around. Went here and there in this place and nothing else."

"Better not, Ironhide. I want to see him do his first things, too."

[Pause]

"If you see Prowl he might tell you that he held Orion this afternoon."

"Okay.  ** What about it ** ?" A fierce piercing optic pierced him. Fiercely.

"He … uh, he chirped."

[Pause to digest the new slag]

Rise.

Quiver.

**"** ****WHAT THE FRAG!** ** **"**

"Language, Ratchet, language." He rose holding his hands in a ‘tone it down’ gesture even as he knew it wouldn't help.

**"** ****LANGUAGE MY AFT! OUR SPARKLING SAID HIS FIRST SPARKLING WORD AND YOU DIDN'T GET ME!** ** **"**

"I couldn't. It just happened..."

**"** ****I DON'T GIVE A FRAG! I WANT TO BE THERE!** ** **"**

They paused their verbal fisticuffs as the sparkling began to wave his little arms with a grin appearing on his kisser.

Ratchet looking at him with love pulled the plug out.

The infant became still for a moment then grinned.

Then he spoke again.

"Frag."

[Pause]

Two sets of startled optics look at each other.

Then at the sparkling.

Then each other.

"Slag," they said together.

  
  


  
  


Chapter 122

  
  


  
  


-0-Ops Center

They paused on their way to the morning staff meeting to check with Prowl who’d been collecting the overnight feed, then walked to the conference room to sit. Prowl began to lay out the clear and present threat.

"Interpol has gotten word of a proposed weapons exchange in New York in the next several days. It matches what Thundercracker told us of seven Decepticons still present on the Earth. Apparently, Shockwave has granted permission for a personal weapon from one of them to be given to a weapons dealer over this weekend. It alleviates the need to bring one in and is an endorsement of the security that we have that they have to do it this way. It also means that we have to send a team now and stake out the area until it takes place."

"Do they say where in New York City?" Ratchet asked as he held a recharging Orion in his arms.

Ironhide sat next to him with his arm around the back of Ratchet's chair exuding contentment.

"It's not known yet. The F.B.I. has an informant who’s working on the details and when they know, we know. But we have to have teams in place for this weekend." Prowl looked at Prime who was considering the situation.

"Jazz can arrange two teams. I want every possible escape route covered," Prime said as he leaned forward with his eyes on the sparkling. "I also have to tell you that the Senate leadership has changed in America and that Beau Weaver is now in charge of the committee that regulates relations with us. He wants to have hearings again."

Groans circled the table.

Ratchet glanced at Ironhide who was looking decidedly unhappy. "What do you want to do, Optimus?" Ratchet asked, filling with dread as he did.

"We will have to comply but the conditions will be more equal this time since we pay our own way now." Prime thought a moment. "It cannot be avoided but now we are operating from a more powerful and autonomous position."

"But Ratchet can't leave Orion," Ironhide said with a frown on his face.

Ratchet sat beside him, his optics fixed on his sparkling. Sometimes you were the bug and sometimes you were the windshield.

"I am sorry, Ironhide. I can not go. No one else has the experience and tact that Ratchet has," Prime said gently. "You will have to take care of him until Ratchet gets back."

"I'm going with Ratchet," Ironhide said sitting straighter at that suggestion.

"You can't take the infant," Prowl said glancing at Ratchet. "You know that, Ratchet. You can't."

"I know," Ratchet said. "You’ll have to take care of him until I get back, Ironhide. He can't come and if he can't come and I have to go, you have to stay here and care for him."

  
  


Ironhide stared at Ratchet, then the recharging sparkling in his arms. "This is just slag. What the frag does that little slagger want anyway that he didn't hear the first time at the other hearing?"

"He wants to do his master's bidding," Wheeljack said, his voice edged with anger. "We're a target for them and Shockwave is using him against us."

"We will use Shockwave against him then. We have the advantage of knowing about them without them knowing about us," Prime said his optics narrowing in irritation. "Their meet up should be before this hearing and if we can record all of it, video all of it, then we can end this threat and deal the Decepticons a real blow. Prowl has formulated a number of plans for us to use depending on what Shockwave sends them by e-mail. We should discuss and troubleshoot all of them now and later this afternoon we will add our own agent into the mix."

"Nast?" Jazz asked as he took a datapad from Prowl who was passing them around to everyone.

"Nast," Prime said his voice grim.

They spent the next two hours discussing and troubleshooting their plans to deal with the growing threat of their external and internal enemies.

-0-At Autobot City, Mars

Ultra Magnus stood at the site of a dig that was expanding their underground living quarters. Word had been forwarded to them that two big groups of refugees were fleeing from war and heading their way. One would arrive in a solar week and the other two solar weeks behind. They were a mixed group, old and young, skilled and unskilled Cybertronians who were in various stages of health and disrepair.

Prime had detailed him to handle their repatriation into the new world of Autobot City and infinite protection. He’d jumped at the task, beginning with expanding the energon plant, cataloging skills and assigning jobs. Bots, especially the former refugees who’d jumped at the chance to help worked around the clock to make The Fortress stronger, bigger and more self-sufficient.

Aerialbots, three of them as well as Cosmos were based on the planet full time for now. They made daily runs between Earth and Mars but during down time spent their orns here and would until the refugees were found, retrieved and settled.

A faint message was following the two groups that may or may not be that of a contingent of Autobot soldiers and a mini-con village that had been fleeing Megatron since the early war. That was a thrilling discovery, riding on a carrier wave from out of the solar system that barely reached them before fading. He’d passed it on to Prime who had been happy to hear about it. They were a good month away from sending a strong signal, so they put that one on the schedule for further action when they could.

The mini-cons were worrisome to Prime but he kept it to himself, Ultra Magnus and Prowl. It was practice among the Decepticons to capture min-icons, rewire their bodies and force them to power link with their own systems. It unleashed tremendous power in the Decepticon to which they were enslaved. It made it extremely hard to defeat them hand-to-hand and the idea of a village fleeing this way would be a tempting target for Shockwave if he found out about it. One could only expect that he would.

Magnus walked to the edge of a pit that would be formatted and reinforced, another circular junction from which corridors would radiate out spokes of habitation from the round hub that led from another one nearby and yet to another. They were on their third level of excavation below the upper levels of the original layout, creating space for people to work, stores to be kept and general living area for a burgeoning population to be made available.

He walked back pausing before the hangars near the airfield where shuttles were being constructed. Materials from their construction and fabrication plants were being used to make space-going shuttles, ones tough and fast enough to carry teams other places and armed enough to hold off a Seeker flight but no more. As they had time and more talents, they would improve them but for now in the solar system proper they’d be efficient and capable.

He felt a swell of pride inside as he watched a defeated people arise, working with care and pride for their new home. He felt honored to be the manager of the city that bore the name of the faction he served. He also felt honored to serve a Prime with the wisdom and strength to make this happen. Continuing onward, Ultra Magnus walked toward The Fortress and Ops Center to check for more intel about the incoming refugees. Until they were here and safe, he wouldn’t fully rest from his responsibility.

-0-Nast

They sat in the conference room waiting together. Ratchet was in the back a blanket thrown over his lap and under it the sleeping form of his son. Ironhide who’d been down in the brig with Red Alert walked back to the conference room with the prisoner in tow between them. The other three men were vocal in their disgust with being left behind but it was music to Ironhide's audials.

  
  


Nast who was held in Ironhide's servo like a rag doll hung on with a continuous stream of epithets all the way to the conference room, only stopping when Ironhide unceremoniously dumped him on the tabletop. He landed in a heap, then sat up to stare wildly around at the silent array of Autobots sitting around the room, all of them staring at him with cold unblinking, unknowable optics. He stood up on shaking legs looking around himself before halting his terrified movements before Optimus Prime. "What's this all about? You can't hold me."

"We have," Prime said. "We have been holding you for some time now."

"The authorities," he began before he was cut off.

"I am sure that the authorities would love to hear from you, Mr. Nast," Optimus said coldly. The door opened as two more Autobots entered, moving to stand behind Optimus who sat at the end of the table.

Nast looked at them warily then Prime. "Who is this?"

"You don't know?" Jazz asked looking up from his datapad.

"If I had to  ** ask ** ," Nast said testily, "then you can take it as a given that I don't  ** know ** them."

Prime leaned forward to rest his elbows on the table top. "I'll let them introduce themselves." Leaning back, he waited.

The two Autobots looked at him then smiled. "My name is Springer, Mr. Nast and this lovely femme," he said turning slightly toward a hard opticed feminized Autobot, "is Arcee."

For a moment, Nast didn't speak or move, then he took a step backwards as the color drained from his complexion.

-0-Lydia Nast

She sat in her living room waiting for the phone call that she’d been promised by her husband. He’d be calling in a few but that time had passed and she was afraid. Her e-mails had been answered but only generally. They felt like they were coming from someone else, not Bill. Light stretched across the carpeted floor as outside the sun began to set. She would sit for a while more before the phone would ring.

-0-Daniels

  
  


He’d taken a flight to the world changing at Ramstein Air Base before getting into Washington, D. C.. A ride in a cab took him to Richmond, Virginia and the home of Theodore Galloway. He was greeted, feted, then sat sipping scotch in a comfortable chair before a fire. Far away from them was the 'problem' of the Autobot garrison and the opportunity it presented.

"I’d like you to make sure that our inside man gets the pictures I need. Weaver is going to be holding hearings and I'm going to be there presenting our side of the problem. Any visual aids that can illustrate our point of view would go a long way toward shaping public opinion."

Daniels nodded as he sipped the vintage scotch in his glass. "I’ll try. Right now, I have some interesting tidbits that might be useful and interesting to Nast. One of the Autobots can become invisible."

"Fuck," Galloway said shaking his head with amazement. "I think I can't be surprised and then I am. I hear that there's an infant there now."

"The word is that one of them had a baby," Daniels said wrinkling his nose. "Don't ask me how but they did. No one has seen it and it's purely speculation. It could be just that, speculation. I just think it would be a nice gift to Nast, something to tie himself to us in a way he can't break."

"The infant?" Galloway asked.

Daniels nodded. "Sure."

"You don't really believe you'll ever be close enough to get their children do you?" Galloway asked with a smirk at Daniels. "You'd have to run a gauntlet of death to do that. They would defend their young with their last gasp."

"Probably," Daniels said. "But it's an interesting problem."

"It's suicide," Galloway said. "I remember working with them when they first came here. They defend each other. You’d never be able to pry a child loose."

"We can think about it," Daniels said. "What better way to control or convince them that they can't live here than to attack the thing they prize the most."

"That would kill public opinion against us," Galloway said shaking his head. "No one would forgive a child's death, even these things. They may be metal but they’re small and no one would forgive it."

  
  


"It's just an idea," Daniels said as he sipped his drink.

"Leave it that," Galloway said. "Suicide by robot doesn't sound good or productive to me."

"Maybe High Flier has ideas. He seems to be hooked into the Decepticons. Maybe he can tell us more about what's what. I’m interested in meeting with him. He must have balls the size of cannon shells."

"He must," Galloway said as he refilled his glass. "I don't have what it takes to deal directly with those crazy assholes. He has to be the wall between us and them."

"You have no guts, Galloway," Daniels said with a grin.

Galloway looked at him coldly. "You have no sense of self preservation, Daniels."

Daniels smiled, then tipped his drink. "I'm going to be Majority Leader of the Senate some day, Galloway."

Galloway smiled coldly, his own glass in hand. "And I will be President of the United States."

They both tipped their glasses together.

-0-Conference Room, Diego Garcia

"What do you want from me?" Nast asked as he turned in circles on the table top. He tried to find the exit from his waking nightmare but there wasn't one.

"Why, Mr. Nast, isn't it evident?" Jazz asked leaning closer, his visor giving him a slightly demonic expression. "We want everything."

-0-Later on

"I don't like this a bit, Ratchet."

Ratchet looked up from drying Orion. "I know. We have our duty, Ironhide. We can't take him with us every time we go somewhere. We have to put him first."

Ironhide shifting on his peds in agitation knew that Ratchet was right and that Prime couldn't do anything different. That didn't make it any bit easier to accept. He took the towel to fold it, putting it on a shelf with all the things they needed to take care of their little mech.

Ratchet picked Orion up to hold him up before himself. He smiled at the baby. "I think I’ll die to leave him even five minutes," he said holding the infant against his cheek.

Ironhide swallowed. "I know."

  
  


Ratchet leaned on Ironhide. "This is going to be hard, Ironhide." The sparkling looked up at them, his little blue optics unblinking, then he chirped softly. Ratchet startled as he looked at Orion, at the sweet face looking up at him. “Frag,” he said.

Ironhide felt a fury with fate and circumstances he hadn't felt in a long time as they stood together with the kid. The sparkling watched him, his hero and greatest champion.

Then he chirped.

-0-At the conference meeting earlier

They showed their evidence to Nast, the e-mails and deals, the evidence of the exchange attempts and most especially the contempt for the law and his country that he’d shown in his zeal to enrich himself without a care for who and what it hurt. They showed all of it to him as he sat pale and shaken. When they were finished, it was silent.

Prime leaned forward. "You are a traitor to your country. You are a thief, an illegal arms dealer, a criminal and a coward, Mr. Nast. You have a mole in the soldier's administration building, 'Inside Man' and you have enough crimes on your slate to put you away forever. You might even have earned a firing squad."

He sat down on the tabletop, his legs rubbery and his head swimming. They waited for him, then he looked at Prime. "What do you want?"

Prime considered his remarks, then leaned forward again. "First of all, an apology to Arcee and Springer would be a good start."

He looked up at Prime with momentary confusion.

Chapter 123

-0-The Conference Room

He stared at Prime, startled for a moment. "Apologize?"

Prime nodded.

He looked at Prime and the others as if some sort of joke was being played, then Nash arose to look at the two Autobots standing on either side of Prime. Their amazingly relatable faces bore a look of small amusement.

"I'm … I'm sorry."

Springer grinned. "You apologize worse than your boy, Todd."

  
  


"Ah, Todd," Jazz said. "He peed on your hand didn't he, Springer, when you tossed him in the brig."

"He did," Springer said. His eyes never left Nast.

Nast who was unable to figure out what was happening swallowed hard as tears welled in his eyes. "What do you want? Tell me. I'll do whatever you want. You want High Flier? You want to have the others? I'll give them to you. Just … just tell me what you want."

Prime leaned forward, glancing at Prowl for a second.

Prowl was looking at Nast with such contempt on his handsome face that Prime had to quash a smile. He looked beautiful to Prime no matter what was going on and the expression he had, contempt and disdain mixed with an inability to understand this kind of behavior on a personal level was no exception.

"We want it all … every bit of it. Then we have a surprise for you, Mr. Nast. We are going to tell you who High Flier really is," Prime said.

"Okay," he said licking dry lips. "I was approached by a guy named High Flier on our internal bulletin board. They said they were working on robotics and wanted information on you. He wanted to know about Springer and someone named Bumblebee, Kup and Hound."

Prime nodded. "Continue."

"It sort of led from one thing to another and we linked up, Daniels, Galloway and me. We all wanted the same thing. Galloway and Daniels wanted you gone from here, out our business and so did High Flier. It was ideological. They hate aliens. They think you're wrong for us, that the Decepticons come because you're still here. You go, they go.

“I just wanted business opportunities. I don't give a rat's ass about the politics and shit. I want to make and sell munitions and I wanted to have a couple of you to reverse engineer. He told me he could help me get a couple of Autobots but it never worked out. I never got either of them." He then shook his head. His hands and body were shaking slightly. "You're standing here. Of course I didn't get you. I just …" He sat down on the table swallowing hard as he waited for who knew what.

"You made a deal with the devil, Mr. Nast. Your wife is lookin' for you and she’s been tryin' to correspond with High Flier," Jazz said. "We've been interceptin' her attempts and keepin' her off High Flier's radar."

Nast was shaken at that bit of news but he didn't say anything.

  
  


Prime leaned forward again considering the man before him. "High Flier wants a meet up shortly and is sending directions. We want you to go to it and be our own 'inside man', Mr. Nast."

"I don't think I can do that … I don't … my nerves …"

"You  ** will ** go and we will be nearby. We will be listening in and we will protect the planet from you  ** and ** them," Prime said quietly. "It is what we do, Mr. Nast."

He nodded jerkily. "You give me no alternative."

"You have alternatives. You can help us or you can go to the authorities in America and prison forever and ever," Prowl said as his nose structure wrinkled as if smelling something bad.

"What do I say?" Nast asked shaking harder.

"You listen. You don't make any stupid moves. You give us the time to get the information we need to take this whole thing down," Prowl said. He leaned forward. "Do you understand that you were dealing with someone who portrayed himself as connected to the Decepticons?"

"He never said so directly," Nast said slightly defensively.

"He captured Arcee and Springer," Prowl persisted. "That's not something a person without a lot of help can do. Arcee and Springer don't  ** get ** captured."

He looked at them, then stared at the table top, his view of the slowly shrinking aspect of his world resting on the toes of his shoes. "He didn't tell me so."

"Well, let's rectify that then," Prime said nodding to Ironhide who walked to the door  to open it. They all turned  to look  including Nast. 

A figure stepped inside, a figure of enormous beauty and menace rolled into a sleek deadly design. He moved toward Prime then faced the figure on the table with  such  an expression of contempt on his handsome face that  it  was astonishing. "Mr. Nast, this is 'High Flier'. Of course,  ** we ** know him as the Decepticon Seeker, Starscream."

Nast passed out cold on the tabletop.

Starscream looked at Prime then shook his head. "You have a sense of humor, Prime." He turned to the human, regarding him as he lay on the tabletop. "As they say somewhere, somehow … don’t play with the big dogs if you don’t want to get bit.”

Prime grinned. "Well put," he said quietly.

  
  


-0-In quarters later that night

Orion lay on the berth between them, his little arms and legs flapping and waving as he tried to reach his father's digits. Ironhide held his servo over the infant wiggling his digits as he did.

Ratchet stretched on his side and Ironhide the other as the two cuddled their little mech in the quiet of the evening. Outside, the corridor was quiet and no one had broken anything requiring Ratchet's attention and skills. They lay down and comforted each other in the joy of their tiny family.

"You feeling better, Ratchet?" Ironhide asked as Orion grasped his servo and raised himself up to bite on it.

"No, but I will, I suppose," Ratchet said taking one of Orion's peds into his servo to rub his tiny Ironhide toes with his digits. "I love this little sparkling, Ironhide. I didn't think I could love anything besides you this much."

"I know," Ironhide said. "He's the greatest thing we ever did together."

"He is," Ratchet said. "I can't even remember what it was like before he came."

"It was good, Ratchet," Ironhide said stroking Ratchet's face. "It was always good with you and me."

"I know," Ratchet said. "I guess I just got used to feeling this wonderful being around him all the time, having him here. I have all the way through this."

"You won't be gone long," Ironhide said softly. "We’ll be waiting."

Ratchet nodded. "I love how you took to this sparkling, taking care of him and being his father. You know you're a great father, Ironhide."

Ironhide smiled. "Tell me to do something hard, Ratchet."

Ratchet smiled. "Carry the next one."

"Not on your life," he replied with a smile of his own.

-0-Conference room earlier

They provided him a chair to sit on and he did, his gaze fixed on the floor and his exhaustion evident.

  
  


Starscream sitting on a chair next to Prime regarded him. "Insect," he said with scorn. "Who did you think you were dealing with? Who else could have indulged your stupid requests but me?"

Nast looked at him, at Prime and then the floor. It was almost too much to consider all that was happening to him, what he was caught up in, so he found himself without expression. He just stared at the ground.

"I don't think he has much to say to you, Starscream," Jazz said with amusement evident in his voice. "What can you do to enlighten us more?"

"Not much," Starscream said considering the request. "I don't have many memories of those days. It all seemed old... like it happened in another time and place without me."

"You don't remember this person and his requests?" Prowl asked.

"Some of it. His requests. He wanted an Autobot or two. I gave him two. Does he want more? I would think the two I gave to him would be enough."

Springer grinned slightly, the incongruity of the figure before him warring with the terrible memories of their encounter on an asteroid far away. "You don't remember anything?" Springer asked as he took a seat across from him. The Seekers had been around him at Autobot City and as he observed Starscream's struggle to return to his personal sentience he’d found his anger diminishing and his personal empathy rising. "None of it?"

Starscream looked at Springer considering the faintly familiar face and color scheme. "I know you from somewhere but I can't place it."

Springer nodded. "Probably a good thing. I was one of the two Autobots you gave the insect."

Starscream thought about it a moment then fixed Nast with a disgusted expression. "How did you lose them when I gave them to you, insect?" He looked at Optimus who looked back at him with a slight sense of amusement and pity. "You really should think twice before doing business with this insect. He can't seem to keep his things in servo."

"I will remember that, Starscream," Prime said. "Thank you for coming."

"You’re welcome, I guess," he said doubtfully as he rose slowly. He turned to Nast. "Be glad you’re dealing with Prime. I would swat you, insect, for being such a dumb aft."

Nast shuddered, leaning backward in his chair as the Seeker walked out of the room with a malignant look on his face that he directed Nast's way. The door closed and he was back with a group of people who only hated him greatly rather than someone who would’ve killed him without a thought. Looking at Prime, he took a deep shaky breath. "What do you want me to do?"

Prime he leaned forward and told him. When they told him about Shockwave he sat in his chair and wept.

-0-On the way to Autobot City, Mars

Starscream leaned against the bulkhead of Cosmos lulled by the thrum of his engines and the soft movements of his body as he flew smoothly through the vacuum of space.

Springer sat in a seat on the flight deck as Arcee sat beside him. They chatted together discussing the new refugees and watched the chronometer tick off the minutes until they were entering the airspace of Autobot City. They touched down and taxied to the disembarkation spot where Thundercracker and Skywarp waited. They met Starscream to walk back chatting together about his trip to Earth and his conversation with the Prime.

Arcee and Springer transformed, rolling past them to drive back to The Fortress and their life there. The Seekers would take more time.

-0-Back in his cell

They brought him back and put him in his cell, the others watching silently until Ironhide left. Nast walked to his bunk and lay down, closing his eyes against his deeply felt emotional trauma. He ignored the others who implored him to tell them what had happened. It didn't matter to him. He was in a waking nightmare with no way out. He was going to have to be very careful to find his way. As bad as the original 'High Flier' had turned out to be, the new one was worse. He closed his eyes and tried to sleep. Eventually the others settled down as their curses and disgust rang in his ears.

-0-Ops Center

Prowl checked the intel overnight and smiled. Gathering it, he walked to the rec room to join Prime on his way to the N.E.S.T. HQ to discuss the New York City operation. He showed the intel to Prime.

"Right on time," he said.

Prowl agreed as they continued onward to spend a couple of hours in the company of the humans they cared about the most, the N.E.S.T. soldiers.

-0-Sunstreaker and Sideswipe

They sat together going over their needs for the strike teams that were being organized. Word was out that there’d be another hearing in Washington, D.C. and Sideswipe felt he had the inside track on going once more in Ratchet's security detail.

"Poor Ratchet," Sideswipe said putting his peds on a chair. "Leaving his sparkling will be tough."

Sunstreaker nodded. "I like the sparklings. I like Silverbow. If we ever have a sparkling or two I want a femme like her and a mech like him."

"They'll be awesome," Sideswipe said. "I wonder if they'll be a winger?"

"Maybe," Sunstreaker replied. "I wonder what tiny wings look like? I bet they're cute but then they would be because they'd be ours."

Bluestreak walked from the direction of the enlisted mech's barracks heading with a smile toward the two. Sitting with them, he relaxed, too. "I'm on the list to go with Ratchet."

"You are?" Sunstreaker asked with surprise. "How do you know?"

"Prowl let me know," he replied as his wings relaxed in their company, his contentment evident.

"Who else is going?" Sideswipe asked. "Am I going?"

"I don't know. He didn't say and I didn't ask."

"Great, Blue," Sunstreaker said. "You have a window to look through and you don't ask?"

"Won't matter anyway. They'll send who they want," he replied. "I thought you'd prefer to go to New York on that mission."

"I won't mind it." Sunstreaker leaned back to regard Bluestreak for a moment. "We were talking about Ratchet."

Bluestreak's smile faltered. "I feel sorry for Ratchet. I couldn't imagine leaving my own sparkling."

They stared at each other a moment, then Bluestreak sat up fixing them both with a stern optic. "Don't look at me like that. I took steps."

"So did I," Sideswipe replied.

"What steps?" Sunstreaker asked as he looked from one to the others.

"To prevent sparking," Bluestreak said glancing at Sunstreaker with a strange expression. "You know … like we talked about on the beach that day. You went to Ratchet didn't you, Sideswipe?"

Sideswipe nodded. "Sure. We agreed. Sunny?"

The two of them looked at Sunstreaker as the Lamborghini stared back at them with narrowed optics. "What?" he asked.

"You went, too, didn't you? To Ratchet? To prevent sparking?" Blue asked.

He sat back slightly defensively. "I will."

Blue glanced at Sideswipe with concern. "Sunny, why didn't you go and take care of it? We all decided to do that until we could figure out how we felt about carrying and sparking."

" ** I  ** ****will** ** ," Sunstreaker said defensively. 

They stared at him with horror in their optics, then he arose to walk away.

"Oh, Sideswipe … I have a terrible feeling," Bluestreak said rising with gathering horror.

"You and me both, Blue," he said rising, too. They followed swiftly after Sunstreaker.

-0-Med Bay

Ratchet heard the commotion before he saw the three entering Med Bay. He stared at them with agitation.  ** " ** ****Hey!** ** ** " **

They halted in the doorway.

Ratchet pointed to a bed on his desk, the bed that he used when Orion was in his care on duty.

They looked contrite. That is, everyone but Sunstreaker.

"What the frag is going on here, Bluestreak?"

He walked to Ratchet glancing nervously back at the twins who were standing by the door, Sunstreaker angrily and Sideswipe nervously. "We need you to check on something, Ratchet."

Ratchet discerning things quickly glanced at Sunny. "Sit on the berth, Sunstreaker."

Sunny glared at him.

Ratchet who was not in the mood to be kindly or patient moved toward Sunny with a glare stern enough to stop a runaway train. "Get on the berth, Sunstreaker or I'll have your ball bearings."

Sunstreaker shaking his head in agitation complied, his expression one of intense aggravation.

Blue moved to Sideswipe and took his servo, the two huddling more closely together, their worry evident.

Ratchet looked at Sunstreaker with a bland expression as he internally commed Ironhide. :Ironhide:

:Ratchet?:

:Get some muscle and come to Med Bay. We may have a brawl in a nanoklik:

:On my way:

Ratchet made a show of doing things as he linked into Sunstreaker and dragged things out waiting for Ironhide to come. By the time they did, Ironhide, Prime, Prowl and Jazz coming through the door at the same time, he had the news the three wanted.

Glancing at Ironhide who checked on Orion he turned toward Ratchet with an expression of expectation on his face.

"What is going on, Ratchet?" Prime asked as he glanced at everyone in the room."

Ratchet girded himself, then replied.

  
  


** Chapter 124 **

  
  


-0-Med Bay

"What is going on, Ratchet?" Prime asked as he glanced at everyone in the room.

Ratchet glanced at them then replied. "Sunstreaker is sparked."

It was stone cold quiet a moment, then Sunstreaker got up, looking at Ratchet with an unreadable expression. "You need to check again."

Ratchet looked at him a moment then gently pushed Sunstreaker back down onto the berth.

Prowl glancing at Bluestreak and Sideswipe moved to stand between them and Sunstreaker. They had expressions of extreme shock on their face.

Prime glancing back at them then moved to stand beside Prowl.

Jazz stood rooted to the spot in his shock and surprise.

Ratchet plugged into Sunstreaker and went through the tests once more but the data declared the same outcome. He pulled the plug, then looked closely at Sunstreaker. "You didn't come in like they did. I waited for you but I didn't go find you. I figured you were an adult and I treated you like one. Now, Sunstreaker, are you going to continue to be one or are the mechs here, the muscle that I asked to come necessary?"

Sunstreaker looked at him, then the others who were as silent and still as statues.

Bluestreak shaking off the initial shock stepped forward halting when Prowl gripped his arm. "Sunny? Can you say something?" he asked anxiously.

Sunstreaker stared at them, then Ratchet. "How can I be sparked when they've taken measures?" he asked, his voice tense and edgy.

"The measures protect  ****them** ** . They don't protect  ****you** ** , Sunstreaker. If you’d done the same thing it would have. But you’re unprotected and there was no way to prevent this. No one is to blame for this but you," Ratchet said firmly. "But I wouldn't use a word like that for this. I want to know what you feel about this and I know Bluestreak and Sideswipe do, too. Are you going to man up or not?"

Sunstreaker looked at him sharply as anger formed on his face.

Ironhide stepped closer his servos balling into fists as his menace grew.

Ratchet put his servo on Ironhide's chassis halting him.

"Sunstreaker?"

For a moment he didn't move or speak as a rash of emotions formed on his features, then fled. He stood like a statue, his fists curling and uncurling as he considered his predicament. A storm was fighting through his processor as he absorbed the body blow of Ratchet's announcement. The agonized expressions and emotions of his trine mates washed through him as well. He looked at them, at Prime and Prowl, at Ironhide and Ratchet. Then he looked into the office at the sleeping sparkling on the desk inside. Turning toward it, he walked inside to look down staring at Orion who lay recharging.

Ironhide moving to stand closer was halted by Ratchet's grip on his arm. He looked at Ratchet, then slipped loose to walk inside to stand beside Sunstreaker. "Sunstreaker?" he said softly.

Sunny looked at him with rage, disbelief and embarrassment crossing his face. "Ironhide."

"Sunny, I'm your proxy genitor and I'll do everything under the sun to help you but if you try to take this out on anyone else because you were too big a dumb aft to do what you and the others agreed to, I will kick your aft from here to Cybertron and back."

Sunstreaker looked at him with anger, then it faded  to be  replaced by anxiety and disbelief. He looked down at the sparkling, staring at it with an unreadable expression. "I don't know if I can do this. I'm a warrior. I'm a front liner. A sparkling? How the  ** frag ** can  ** I ** do something so awful and strange?"

Ironhide looked at him. "You look at that little sparkling there, Sunstreaker. Look at him closely. Look at him and listen to me carefully."

Sunstreaker looked at Ironhide, then down at the sparkling who was moving his arm in his sleep, moving his balled up fist to his mouth to suck on it.

"That little thing is my  ** world ** . Ratchet  ** and ** my  infant . What Ratchet did, what he went through to give me a son is the bravest thing I've ever seen someone do for another. You say that you're a front-liner? So am I. You and me, we've seen everything that a battlefield can give us and we  ** enjoy ** it. Maybe too much. Maybe it's true that we don't fear anything or so we say.

"But  **I** do. I found out I really  ****do** ** fear something. I was too afraid to do this and I told Ratchet so. I couldn't do it because I was scared. Ratchet did it. He gave me a son and he did the thing I couldn't. I, Ironhide, a bad ass's bad ass, a chaos bringer, a front-liner, the most feared Autobot in  ** the whole fraggin' army ** . I couldn't do what Ratchet did for me.

"You call this  **awful** ? It's a  ** fraggin'  ** ****miracle** ** . It's a slaggin act of  ** mercy  ** ** for all of us, from a few to the many ** . We aren't going to end because Ratchet could  ** do this ** . We’ll  ** continue ** because of you, Gear Shift and all the others who will follow Ratchet. You act like this is a terrible thing when it's a terrible  ** mercy from Primus himself ** . It’s the greatest service we can do for our people, this thing,  right now . My s on ,  ** our  ** s on is going to make sure we don't all at some point disappear forever.  ** Your ** sparkling can, too.

"You don't have to  ** like this ** . It's a shock. We know and we're with you on it. You  ** know ** we will be. Just know it's the bravest thing any of us can do now. The ones who can do it,  ** they're ** the most courageous among us. As much as I can do, as much as I fear very little, I was too afraid to do this."

He reached down to pick up his Orion, then cradled him in the crook of his arm. "I will never live long enough to thank Ratchet for this. Orion is the greatest treasure in my life besides him, the greatest thing that ever happened to me and I will **never** be able to make it up to Ratchet that I couldn't be the one to do this for him, too."

They stood together  side by side,  each of them silent as Sunstreaker looked at the sparkling. Outside in the Med Bay the others waited. Sunny relaxed a moment  then looked at Ironhide. "I  ** hate ** this, Ironhide. I  ** hate ** it."

Ironhide nodded. "At some point you'll wonder why you waited as long as you did. We'll  ** all ** help you."

He looked at Ironhide then out at the others outside of the room. He walked to Ratchet's chair and sat heavily.

Ironhide backed out of the office with his son as Bluestreak and Sideswipe swept inside sitting and kneeling around Sunstreaker. He leaned his elbows on his knees resting his helm in his servos, shaking his helm slowly with dismay as they both comforted and consoled him.

Ironhide backed out to stand with the others as they watched, unwilling to be relieved as yet.

Prowl looked at Ratchet. "What do we do, Ratchet?"

"Get ready to be grandparents, I guess," Ratchet said as he took Orion from Ironhide.

Prowl blinked with surprise and realization, then looked at Prime who was staring back at him with an equally shocked expression.

Then Prime grinned. "You finally get your sparkling," he said quietly.

Prowl  ****ALMOST** ** grinned back.

-0-A few minutes later

They walked out together, a silent Sunstreaker and a tearful Bluestreak.

Sideswipe reeling with surprise turned to the others. "I ..."

"Go and be with your family, Sideswipe," Ratchet said. "I'll let you know what the schedule will be for Sunstreaker."

Sideswipe nodded, pausing in confusion a moment before rolling out the door. It closed as the others looked at each other as the shock wore off a little.

"This will effect his status as a front-liner for a while," Prowl said as anxiety suffused him. "He can't be in danger."

"He can for a while. The first few orns are the worst and the last three decaorns. Right now he's about seven orns into this," Ratchet said grinning as Prowl reached for and took Orion.

The little mech looked at Prowl, smiling at his red chevron as he reached for it to fail as usual. Prowl held him, patting him almost absently as he considered the problems ahead.

Prime watching with a grin looked at Ratchet. "What do you think? Do we have a problem?"

"I don't know. There's programming that kicks in for carriers that makes it incredibly difficult to be anything but happy and protective. I guess because he took it with more grace than we thought he would its running."

"Can you tune it up?" Prowl asked as he swayed gently. He held Orion who was patting his chassis with his little servo. "I don't want any more chaos for any of them than we have to suffer."

Ratchet smiled. "The longer he goes the more it will initialize."

Prowl nodded, then looked at Orion with a smile gracing his face. He glanced at Prime. "We're going to have a sparkling."

Prime chuckled, then shook his head. " **Sunstreaker** is going to have a sparkling." He glanced at Ratchet. "I just got a cold chill hearing him say that."

"You don't want your own sparkling, Prime?" Ratchet asked jokingly. "I figured you’d be up for it leading us down the primrose path to glory and all."

Prime grinned, then shrugged.

Prowl looking at him with a smirk chuckled. "Panty waist."

They accessed the appropriate language files, then chuckled.

Prowl regarded Prime with a piercing optic. "I've never had a sparkling to worry about until you."

Prime laughed out loud. "You have four mechs, however."

"That's true." Prowl turned to Ratchet. He looked at him for a moment, then down at Orion in his arms. "I'm going to be coming around one of these days, Ratchet to talk to you about carrying."

Prime glanced at Prowl getting a pointed look in return. "Not right away. The youngling's infant will do for now. But I want one of my own eventually. Don't you, Optimus?" he asked. His wistful earnestness was painful to see.

"Whatever you say, Prowl," he said to general laughter.

-0-Nearby

They sat in the quarters, two on the berth and one pacing. They felt his turmoil and sent him all the love and appreciation they could manage. He felt it and it kept him from ripping his own throat structures out with his bare servos. He paused his pacing, then turned to face them with a critical gaze. "Why didn't you say anything? How could you not say you did this?"

"Sunny, we **did.** Don't you remember?" Bluestreak said. "I told you. Sideswipe told you."

Sideswipe nodded, shrugging helplessly as he stared at the two of them. "You laughed. Remember? You told me you would do it later."

Sunstreaker accessed the files and they were right. But it didn't matter. He was furious and embarrassed to the bottom of his peds. He, Sunstreaker, killer and all around yellow metal menace was fraggin' sparked. He looked at them. "Who’s the sparker? You, Bluestreak? Or you, Sideswipe?"

They sat back in surprise, looking at each other with gathering anxiety.

Sideswipe stared at him with a deepening frown. "I didn't … I didn't directly 'face you, Sunny."

Bluestreak frowned as they both looked at him at the same time.

"What?" Sunstreaker asked with dread.

"It doesn't matter."

"It does," Sideswipe began but Bluestreak cut him off.

"It doesn't matter if you do it directly or indirectly." He halted with a look of embarrassment for a moment. "Remember that time when we got … uh, over energized and we … experimented with all three of us? When I was in the middle and you two were … plugged in?"

They thought a moment, then realization appeared on their faces. "Yeah, I remember," Sunstreaker said with a small amount of dread. "You were drunk and so were we. We decided to try a threesome."

Sideswipe nodded. "I wasn't anywhere near you, Sunny. I was plugged into Blue."

"It doesn't matter. We shared the energy. Even if you don't plug directly into Sunstreaker you shared the energy through me into him."

"I could have  ****SPARKED MY OWN BROTHER** ** **?"** Sideswipe rose. He stared looked down at Bluestreak in horror. 

Sunstreaker glancing at Sideswipe with a mix of loathing and fury looked down at Bluestreak as well.  **"Y** ****OU MEAN THIS IS FRAGGIN' INCEST?** ** **"**

"No," Bluestreak said as he stood up nervously. "I'm just saying that Ratchet told me that all the energy of a trine goes into making the sparkling. No one in the trine is exempt unless they don't plug in or merge at that moment."

"We … we merged. I merged with you, Bluestreak. Sunny was plugged in when I did. I remember it vaguely." Sideswipe shuttered his optics. "If I merged with you and he got the overload, too, he was sparked? **We both sparked him**?" He turned to Sunstreaker who was rubbing his helm with his servos. "It wouldn't be incest would it?"

"I don't … Let me ask Ratchet." Bluestreak commed Ratchet. :Bluestreak to Ratchet:

:Ratchet here:

:Ratchet, we think we know when it happened. Um …: He paused with intense embarrassment.

:Bluestreak, I'm your doctor. Spill:

:We were … experimenting: Bluestreak's face formed an expression of intense pain and embarrassment but he continued. :We were all three plugged in 'facing, then Sideswipe merged with me. Does that mean that the sparkling is made from incest? I know that sounds stupid and petty but we're really struggling here, Ratchet, and if you could tell us the truth about this we can figure it out better:

There was a pause, then an amused voice returned. :Bluestreak, relax. The energy was energy. I can check the spark code but the twins' code is identical and it won't have any effect beyond being the platform for half of the sparkling's genetics. It merged with yours and Sunstreaker received it. All three of you will contribute to this sparkling and incest doesn't apply. Being twins prevents it genetically from being incest. They’re identical:

Bluestreak wilted with relief. :Thank you, Ratchet:

:You're welcome:

Bluestreak explained to the twins the new intel.  T hey sat down suffused with relief  and nervous exhaustion . 

It was quiet a while then Sideswipe ventured. "Sunny? Are you going to be okay? Are ** **we**** going to be okay?"

Sunstreaker staring at the floor glanced up a fierce expression on his face. "I don't know. I hate this. I want you to know that. But I like Orion and Silverbow and the others."

"So do we," Bluestreak said gently. He arose to sit beside Sunstreaker. "We love you, Sunny. We'll be with you every step of the way."

"But it'll be me screaming on the berth when it comes," Sunstreaker said. " **Me alone**."

It was silent a moment. Then Sideswipe resolved. "You didn't do what we asked. You got here by yourself but you don't have to be alone, Sunny. You know how much we love you. We would do anything for you. But this is  ****your** ** goof. Don't punish  **us** for it. We just want to take care of you and be a trine."

Sunstreaker looked at his brother, his miserable expression and his dejected figure. Bluestreak was leaning against him with his blue optics shuttered and his figure as dejected as Sideswipe. Then he sighed, feeling strangely relaxed with the idea. A wave of calm suffused him. He considered for a moment the sensations. :Ratchet?:

:Ratchet here:

:I feel calm:

:Programming, Sunstreaker. You'll feel it help you through this. Let it. You'll never feel so good again as long as you live:

:Programming, huh?:

:Yeah:

[Pause]

:Can I talk to you tomorrow?:

:You can talk to me anytime, anywhere, Sunny:

[Pause]

:Thank you, Ratchet. I guess:

:You're welcome. I guess:

He felt Ratchet's chuckle rather than heard it. Looking at his trine mates he sighed. It sucked but he didn't care as much as before. Programming he thought. Fraggin' programming. "Blue? Sides?"

They looked up, hopeful. "What, Sunny" Bluestreak asked.

"I'm stuck."

Sideswipe smiled slightly. "We all are."

Sunstreaker looked at him for a moment. then nodded slightly. "Don't tell anyone.  ****Anyone** ** . Keep it to ourselves or I'll be hard to live with."

Sideswipe smiled as Bluestreak chuckled. "You mean more than you are  ****now** ** ?"

Sunstreaker looked at Blue. "Ha-ha," he said, his voice only slightly tinged with bitterness. He stared at the floor. "I  ** hate ** this."

Sideswipe smiled. "We know."

  
  


  
  


Chapter 125

=0=New York

They gathered in Ops Center, the two strike teams that Prowl had organized with Jazz. Lennox, Epps and Graham had joined them representing the human element of the operation. They’d received intel that stated a trade off would be made in Central Park in New York City in America. They’d drawn up plans that would allow a team member to be placed at decent intervals around the vast estate to be able to link up quickly should something happen anywhere in the long expanse of the park proper.

The weapon was indeterminate but a plasma configuration was considered most likely. Of the Decepticons known to inhabit Earth since the security net was thrown up so tightly around the planet, Barricade with Frenzy, Payload and Sideways were the ones intel could confirm. Three others were not known by designation. Anyone could be the one giving the weapon over to the humans who Interpol said were freelance mercenaries.

Jazz would lead two on-ground teams consisting of himself, Sideswipe, Smokescreen, Bumblebee, Ironhide, Tracks and Blaster. They’d be operating in two distinct groups breaking the park into two sections to cover more efficiently. The soldiers would be divided among them as feet on the ground should the humans decide to resist intervention. Prime would be airborne and await drop if necessary. First Aid would be chief medical officer of the operations flying in from Mars the day of muster.

Ironhide who was listening as the plans were laid out by Prowl felt the first tug of separation from his 'little buddy' who lay in his arm waving his servos in front of his face as if they were the most fascinating sight he ever saw. For him, they were.

=0=Med Bay

He came in sulkily looking around to make sure no one saw him. Searching for Ratchet, he walked to the office to wait for the medico to notice he was there sitting slumped in a chair with a sour expression.

Ratchet noticing him right away decided to let him sit a moment as he fusticated around the main room doing this and that as he got a kit together for First Aid. Finally, he walked to the door of his office to look inside with a smile. "Hello, Sunshine. Don't you look bright and cheery this morning?"

Sunstreaker looked at him a furious expression on his face. "I can leave, you know."

"You’ll be back, you know," Ratchet countered as he walked inside and closed the door. He looked down at Sunstreaker taking in his abject misery and felt sadness pulsing through him. He himself had been ecstatic over the idea of being sparked but for Sunstreaker it was an ordeal, an embarrassment and but for his programming a catalyst for violence. "So," he said walking over to sit on his chair and put his peds on the desktop. "What do you want to know?"

Sunstreaker looked at him frowning almost reflexively and put his peds up, too. "Everything. Nothing."

"Ah, the works and then some," Ratchet said. "Well, when you get sparked you aren't an invalid. Get that notion out of your processor. You have a huge responsibility to yourself and your sparkling to behave and do the right thing. Anytime you don't feel you should then consider Silverbow."

"What about her? She's fraggin' awesome," Sunstreaker replied fiercely. "I detailed her myself. That little Autobot symbol? She asked for it and I painted it on myself. I buff and wax her once a decaorn to keep her shiny."

"Which is totally wonderful, Sunny," Ratchet said warmed at the thought of such things of which he wasn't aware. "But Silverbow is behind. She’s barely coming into her sparkling speech. She's not very structurally strong. She’s fearful and susceptible to fracture due to poor nutrition for the developmental stages she was deprived. She’s going to be slow catching up and some things never will."

"Like what?" Sunstreaker said sitting up with concern. "She's fraggin' awesome."

"She is," Ratchet agreed. "But she didn't get what she needed when she was growing and even with a good protoform, which miraculously she got, she’s still weak and behind."

Sunstreaker glared at him as a furious expression flashed across his face. "Another reason to kill Decepticons."

"I won't argue," Ratchet said placatingly. "But you see what a serious duty you have. Your sparkling  ** must ** come first. You want a sparkling that’s in great health all the way through or you’ll have the problems that poor little Silverbow has."

"She'll be alright won't she?" Sunstreaker asked suddenly afraid. "She’ll … get better."

"She will," Ratchet said. "She will but her spark is not as strong as it could’ve been. We’ll have to help her and the little mechs. They all have the same problem but for the mechs being fitter and the impact less prolonged when the disrupted critical growing stage was taking place.

“Spirit doesn't speak yet. He made a few chirps but he's traumatized as well. T-Bar can talk pretty well and Rambler is in good shape, the best shape considering. What happens to them when they’re growing matters, Sunny. Do you understand?"

"I would **never** ," Sunstreaker said sitting up with a fierce look on his face, " **ever** endanger a sparkling. I would **die** for them. **They're fraggin' ours** , Ratchet."

"So is yours," Ratchet said gently.

Sunstreaker sat back considering Ratchet's words then shook his helm, his face a desolation of sadness. "I hate this."

"I know," Ratchet said. "But when you get your sparkling, when Sideswipe and Bluestreak get the sparkling, too, and are amazed and proud of you, you won't."

"Why, why, why? I want to break things. I want to kill something," he said quietly.

"But you won't."

It was silent a moment.

Then he looked up enraged. "Fraggin' programming?"

Ratchet nodded. "We need it. We need to protect our young. We need to protect our carriers. Our species is in crisis. Until we get a handle on how many of our people are out there we cannot allow anything to happen to even one sparkling."

"There’s refugees coming," Sunstreaker replied. "Two big groups. I heard there's a fraggin' mini-con village coming with some Autobot soldiers."

"Mini-cons," Ratchet said chuckling with amusement.

"Slaggin' mini-cons. Like we don't have enough already," Sunstreaker said with a slight grin. "Maybe Bumblebee's  ****real** ** genitors are in the mix."

They both grinned at each other. Then the frown was back.

"You’re eight orns into this. You have five decaorns and two orns to go. Fifty-two days, human. I want you to know you can't fight for now. Its too much stress on your spark and you might get slagged, too."

The frown deepened.

"You have to behave, Sunstreaker. You and the others have to decide what you want. Then we can meet up with Wheeljack and Perceptor to design the protoform."

"I want a mech and a femme. What's the odds on twins?"

Ratchet reached into subspace and pulled a scanner. He rose and passed it over Sunstreaker. "Looks like you’ll have to wait on one of them. You have one sparkling."

"I can choose, right?"

Ratchet nodded.

"Why did you choose a mech and why did you make him look like a mini-con version of Ironhide?" Sunstreaker asked as he relaxed slightly.

"I wanted a mech because I wanted Ironhide to have the first one be a mech. I knew he'd spoil a femme beyond repair and I think Ironhide is the most handsome mech I ever saw."

Sunstreaker smirked. "Love is blind?"

"Love is myopic," Ratchet said smirking back.

"Did it hurt much? I saw you screaming and dying on the table. I could tear my spark chamber out just thinking about it."

"It hurt a little," Ratchet said thinking back. "Actually, it just slaggin' hurt. But you've seen Orion. He's totally worth it."

"He's slaggin' cute even if he does have Ironhide's face," Sunstreaker agreed as he smiled slightly. "I've never held a sparkling that small before. Or a sparkling ever."

"I'll get him. Will you wait here?" Ratchet asked rising to go.

Sunstreaker sat a moment in thought, then nodded slightly.

Ratchet grinned then walked to the door, hurrying out of it, then Med Bay. Down the corridor he went to enter Ops Center to take Orion from a reluctant Ironhide.

:I'll bring him back. Sunstreaker is in my office:

:Alright. But you **will** bring him back? Soon?:

:I will, Ironhide:

Ratchet smiled as he walked back to enter the office and pause beside Sunstreaker. He looked at the front-liner who sat up looking nervous. "Here," Ratchet said holding him out. He placed him in Sunny's arms and walked to his chair to sit, settling in as he watched the big Lamborghini hold the sparkling.

Orion with binky firmly in place looked at Sunstreaker his little optics considering the new face holding him. It wasn't his papa. It wasn't his carrier but his carrier had given him to the yellow face. It must be all right so he began to wave his arms trying to touch Sunstreaker. He wanted to grab his finials and as he did Sunstreaker smiled.

So did Ratchet.

=0=Nast

He’d made a call to his wife, a call that was overheard by the aliens. He’d told her that he was doing a bit of serious business and would be out of touch a while longer. He told her to just trust him and be happy. He apologized to her for being late and for not being around for the holidays.

He listened to her tell about home, about people they knew and he tried not to crawl out of his skin from the now banal details of the life he had loved before. He was exhausted, traumatized and scared out of his mind. Her conversation grated on his ears, the normality of it and when he finally signed off he was glad. Ending up in the brig surrounded by energy bars and resentful employees, he was glad. This place was the safest place he had right now and being here made him almost forget he was probably not going to live through the next month.

=0=The mission to New York

They gathered their gear, piling it on the airstrip next to Silverbolt. The crews were getting weapons together, more than aware that nearby mercs from Daniels' group were watching them. Big mechs stood together talking and checking their munitions as they awaited the word to board.

"Those guys could rip our spines out with their bare hands," Tim Bolton, a new merc said snapping pictures with his cell phone as he used two others to shield his actions.

"They scare the shit out of me," another new merc, Dustin Carter said. "I wouldn't go any closer to them than this."

"Daniels wants us to mess with them," Bolton said.

"Daniels is fucking nuts," Dustin replied catching Bolton taking pictures. "That's out of bounds. You can get slammed if you get caught taking pictures."

Bolton turned Dustin, then stepped behind him. "Stand still."

Dustin stepped away, turning on Bolton as he did. "No way, man. I'm not getting stepped on because you broke the rules."

"Pussy," Bolton said slipping the camera back into his pocket.

They watched as Optimus Prime himself stepped out to walk across the tarmac, his presence the go signal for boarding. Soldiers loaded up, the Autobots with Prime being last. Then the huge jet taxied a short distance before taking off almost effortlessly.

"He didn't use a runway," Seth Tomas another new merc said softly. "He didn't fucking use a runway."

"He's one of them, that jet. He's a robot, too," Bolton said shaking his head with wonderment as well. "Their plane is alive."

"I wouldn't want to piss them off," Ray Christie, another new merc said. "If he ever came after you where would you go?"

"To your death," Dustin said softly. The jet disappeared then he glanced at the others. "Daniels can go fuck himself. I'm not getting myself killed provoking them. Where would you run to if they came after you? Have you seen the red and yellow ones? The Lamborghinis? I heard they came after a couple of soldiers who were pissing them off and nearly killed them."

"You’re a wuss," Bolton said with a grin. He began to walk back to the barracks. " **W** **us** **s!** "

"Better to be a living wuss than a dead dumb ass," Dustin said as he walked back with Christie and Tomas. "Bolton and Daniels are going to get us killed."

=0=Med Bay

Ratchet sat at his desk staring at his computer, the data passing by so many squiggly lines. He held Orion against his shoulder, the little sparkling patting him with his servo as he looked around with binky firmly in place. Ratchet sat back and held him in front of himself looking at his little micro mini-con Ironhide with deep affection. "You're stuck with me, Orion, until Ironhide gets back. He's probably crying his spark out in the plane right now."

Orion listened to his creator, then grinned.

Ratchet awash in love and admiration at his sparklings great new trick of smiling in agreement with everything he said hugged Orion closely. "I love you, Orion. It won't be long before he's back. Until then you can keep me sober." Ratchet smiled and so did Orion. Then they both turned to the screen and tried to make sense of the squiggly lines.

=0=On the way to New York

Ironhide sat on the deck, his spark crushed. Leaving his sparkling was a bigger blow than he expected. He’d carried Orion in the crook of his arm everywhere he went since the sparkling was separated. Now his arms felt empty. Leaning back, he closed his eyes replaying internally images of his sparkling and Ratchet. It would occupy his time until they reached New York when the dangers and details of arms smuggling intervention would take over.


	6. Part Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> see part one for it, continuous story

Chapter 126

  
  


=0=New York City

They sat in their designated areas, the city around them quieting down somewhat. Snow was everywhere and it was cold. Giant metallic street lamps threw pools of light at intervals. The odd person would walk out of the darkness into one and then back into the darkness once more. They were parked at the major intervals along 5th Avenue, Central Park West, 59th Street and Central Park North. Overhead, flying in a circle aboard Silverbolt above the flight lanes of commercial traffic, Optimus Prime sat plugged into the ground teams below.

Ironhide was parked at 85th Street as Will Lennox sat in his cab with the heater running. It was cold and snowy, the streets almost empty of traffic and the evening was closing in around them. Outside, the night air was cold and crisp, the snow muffling sound and there was low visibility from an ice fog that had formed when the temperature began to drop.

Sideswipe and Epps were parked at the corner of Central Park East and East 65th at the corner where the zoo was located.

Jazz was roving with a pair of soldiers inside who would be boots on the ground if a chase ensued that did not allow for twenty five foot robotic pursuit.

Tracks and two soldiers were parked at the corner of 5th Avenue and Central Park South waiting for something or the call to move.

Blaster was roving along with Jazz, the two mirroring each other as they rolled around the park on opposite sides seeking the signs of a green van with an Ohio license plate that would be the target for their labors.

As the night rolled on, the cold intensified and the traffic dwindled into nothingness ...

:I have only one thing to say:

"What, Jazz?: Ironhide turned up the radio for Lennox to listen to as well.

:I'm very glad there aren't any Seekers:

"You and me both," Ironhide replied. "Gettin' anything on your side?"

:Nothing. Maybe we can let the soldiers go and they can comb the park: Jazz suggested.

“Uh, that’s okay, Jazz,” Will said as he looked through the frosted windows to the world outside. “No hurry. The night is young.”

Jazz chuckled. :They can go into the places we can't, right, Lennox? Unless of course, your bearings might freeze ...:

Lennox smirked, then made the call, exiting the truck as he did to disappear into the park itself. With nearly 800 acres to travel they’d be out for a while so the bots extended their nets to help catch not only Decepticon signals but to track their particular soldiers out in the park.

It was silent a while.

:Ironhide:

“Jazz.”

:How ya holdin' up?:

“Not good.”

:This feels like a bust. We'll be home before ya know it:

“Could be. Feels flat.”

:It does. Have you told Lennox about your sparkling yet?:

“I forgot. I better. Ratchet will be sore if I don't.”

:Nothing like an out of sorts missus:

Ironhide chuckled. “I dare ya to say that to his face.”

:Oh, no. I value my body parts right where they are:

They bantered back and forth for over an hour before the soldiers radioed to be picked up. The team regrouped to settle in again as Jazz commed Prime who was circling overhead. They waited longer, then Prime was commed by N.E.S.T. in Diego that the informant who had given them the information they were acting upon was found dead, eviscerated and stuffed into an oil drum. Obviously, he had outlived his purpose.

:Prime to Jazz:

“Jazz here.”

:Wrap it up. We have been set up. The drop is not here:

“On our way.”

Jazz commed the team, gathering everyone as together they made their way to the airport for pick up. By the time they were lifting off at LaGuardia the city was being snowed in, the airport was closed to normal traffic and the game was still afoot.

Just not here.

Ironhide sat next to Prime waiting for him to conclude an internal comm from Prowl in Diego Garcia. The others were lounging around, the soldiers in their secure area and the flight well on its way. Prime commed off. He glanced at Ironhide who sat across from him. "The informant was found murdered, cut into pieces and stuffed into an oil drum. The information is not reliable. The authorities are using other sources and feel pretty secure that the weapon was passed off."

Ironhide shook his head angrily. "We got played."

"We did," Prime said grimly. "What we have to do is wait for it to show up some place. I am hoping that Intel-Martin gets first refusal. Right now, I think we need to monitor known arms dealers, their major clients in our databases and hope it's Intel-Martin or one of their two subsidiary companies."

Ironhide nodded with aggravation. "Fraggin' idiots. They don't even have the capacity with raw materials to make the weapons they were given safely. Some of the parts and materials don't exist here or they don't in ways that humans can refine."

"I know," Prime said shaking his head with amazement as well. "We have to get that weapon back."

"One more slaggin' thing to do," Ironhide said grimly. "Put it on the list."

=0=Ops Center

Prowl paced frustrated and angry. They’d been suckered and now a Cybertronian weapon was in the hands of the humans. It was the same to him as giving a fragmentation grenade to Orion. The humans were squeezing their networks to find the weapon, the individuals who’d passed it and those who received it. They would have to retrieve it once it was found but until then they were only going to be able to watch and listen.

Shockwave had fired his first shot across their bow and scored a hit. They would have to up their game, he considered as he paced back and forth by the comm station waiting with uncharacteristic impatience for a message or intel.

They had to get the weapon back.

=0=Over the Indian Ocean

Lennox slipped through the plane winding around long legs and big old peds to walk to Ironhide to sit on a low bench for humans Silverbolt kept along the wall for them. "Hey?"

Ironhide looked down, his reverie broken. "William."

"What's up?" Lennox asked settling on Ironhide's ped. "You look distracted."

"I am."

"I meant to ask you about Ratchet and the … you know."

"I know. The 'you know' is a go."

Lennox grinned broadly. "That's great, Ironhide. Congratulations. Which was it?"

"A mech."

"And Ratchet?"

"Up to fighting form."

"Wonderful. When can we come and see it? What did you name it?"

"You can come tomorrow. We named him Orion."

"Orion. Like the constellation?" Lennox asked inordinately pleased.

"Uh, like the Prime."

"Prime?"

"Orion Pax. That was Optimus's name before he became Prime. Optimus is his regnal name."

"He had another name?"

"Yes."

"What about you? Do you have other names?"

Ironhide thought about that, about the names he’d acquired over the vorns, the family names, the ones that were clan and inheritance names and the cute name that Ratchet murmured to him in the middle of an intense 'face. "No."

"Orion. That's … that's just great, Ironhide. When did this happen?"

"About ten orns ago. Ten or eleven."

"Wow. Only a little baby then."

[Pause]

"Yes."

"You miss him."

"Yes."

"Sort of makes you not want to talk doesn't it."

"Yes."

"Well, I'll let you go then." Lennox started to rise then Ironhide moved his servo to block him.

"Stay. Tell me about your sparkling."

Lennox looked at Ironhide as a misty film formed over his eyes. "Well, she's pretty wonderful, my little Annabelle," he began.

=0=Diego Garcia, later

They came in and landed, then walked and rolled off the jet with a sense of frustration and anger. Prime walked toward N.E.S.T. with the soldiers as Prowl waited to go with him as well.

Ironhide rolled to the door, transformed, then walked inside and down the roadway to the quarters, punching in his code at the door to enter. It was dark and the lights were off but he could see Ratchet's supine form and the little bed where Orion was recharging.

He walked to the bed to look at his little one, smelling his particular aroma, looking him over carefully. He was perfect, Ironhide concluded so he walked to the table and disarmed, moving quietly to the berth where he reclined, venting his weariness and frustration softly.

"Ironhide?"

He turned his helm, watching as Ratchet rolled over to look at him with a smile on his face. Leaning down, they kissed softly as Ironhide's arm slipped around Ratchet's chassis. "Ratchet."

"You look tired. Pretty neat trick Shockwave cooked up."

"He'll get his. They always do."

"I know."

"How was Orion?" Ironhide asked as he moved to accommodate Ratchet who lay down in his arms.

"He was a champion. He's rather well thought of already."

"I can see that," Ironhide said with a smile. "I missed him so much."

"He missed you. He had to make do with me and the rest of the base. I think Sunstreaker rather loved him, too."

"How's that train wreck coming along?"

"Slowly. His programming is keeping him from being out of hand but he's still touchy and fuming. He **does** loves sparklings though. He just didn't want to be the one to spark."

"Then he has to pay attention. His ego is going to be the death of us all."

Ratchet snorted. "But his sparkling is going to be … how did he put it? The 'fraggin' most beautiful one in the universe'."

"So they settled on a femme?" Ironhide asked curiously.

"No. It’ll be a mech."

[Pause]

"Figured him for a femme the way he looks after Silverbow."

"He told me that he buffs and waxes her every decaorn so she'll shine."

"He does. He comes in and lets her sit on his lap, too. I look in on the younglings. Prime wants me to. It's real sweet to watch him with her. She really loves him back."

"That's good."

A comm signal broke their reverie so Ratchet answered. “Ratchet.”

:We need you in Med Bay: Jazz said.

:On my way: Ratchet rose then stopped as Ironhide gripped his servo. "What's up?" he asked.

"Don't know. Gotta go to Med Bay." He leaned down to kiss Orion softly. Then he walked to the door.

"Don't be long," Ironhide said.

"Won't be," Ratchet said walking out the door. It closed softly.

Ironhide lay still for a moment ruminating on how much cooler the temperature of the room had just become when the warmth of Ratchet left. Rising, he walked to the little bed his son lie in to gently pick him up. He walked back to the berth and lay down, settling the infant next to him. With a smile of contentment, he fell into a light recharge waiting for Ratchet to return.

  
  


Chapter 127

=0=On the way back from Med Bay

Ratchet walked along nodding to the night shift who were just going off duty from Ops Center. It was early morning and he’d been up all night helping via video the separation of Gear Shift's little femme. It had been a rousing success, the second sparkling born in their new city and he felt a lightness of step even as he was weary through to his superstructure.

Entering the cabin, he walked softly to his side of the berth and smiled as he looked down at Ironhide and Orion lying together, Orion cuddled into Ironhide's chassis as the big mech draped his big arm around the little bundle. He watched them a moment, the incongruous sight of one of the fiercest warriors he’d ever seen so tender with the tiny sparkling that had become his constant and boon companion.

Moving with care, he lay down beside them lying on his side to rest his helm on his crooked arm. Staring at them, the large economy size and the pocket size of the same individual, he felt once more thrilled that he’d been so adamant that they resemble each other. The tiny bands of yellow were crisp and bright against the satiny black of his sparkling's protoform. It was altogether a handsome effect. Two handsome mechs all his own

Two, count them, two.

Orion was sleeping just as soundly as his big old pa and looked so sweet that Ratchet had to hold his servos still rather than risk awakening him from his recharge.

Ironhide shifting slightly moved his arm closer to his chassis, pulling the little bundle closer, then fell back into recharge.

Ratchet smiled and thought about how fortunate he was in his personal and professional life. As he did, Ironhide stirred and then his optics opened, pools of blue in the darkness shining into being.

"Ratchet?"

"Hi."

"What happened?"

"Gear Shift separated. A femme."

Ironhide smiled. "Cute, I imagine."

"Luminously beautiful."

He reached out to pull Ratchet closer, the infant between them disappearing into the shadows of their bodies.

Ratchet put an arm over Ironhide, too, leaning in to kiss him. "You thought he was lonely in his little bed?"

"Called to me."

"He did? What did he say?"

"Come and get me. I miss you."

Ratchet chuckled. "Projecting are we?"

"Probably," Ironhide said. He smiled. "I could see it in his little face, though, so it's probably true anyway."

"Well, we can't make a habit of it. Either of us roll over and he's done for."

"I have him on a proximity sensor," Ironhide said peering down into the darkness at his little sparkling. "I get within a filament's breadth an alarm goes off."

"Ah, good thinking."

"I'm glad you think so."

It was quiet a moment. Then Ratchet grinned. "We haven't 'faced since his separation."

"I know. A mech can get down in the back without a little of the old Sexy."

Ratchet grinned. "I’d hate to have you get down in the back. I’d have to take you out of the duty schedule. You’d have to be one of them stay-at-home dads taking care of the sparklings and cleaning house and all."

"Wouldn't mind," Ironhide said with a grin. "Could get used to that idea."

"Cleaning house or taking care of the sparklings?"

"Is this a test?" he asked as he smirked slightly.

"You wouldn't pass it. I see that there’s still slag here that belongs in your locker."

"I'll move it tomorrow. Orion and I, we'll do it together. We have a system."

"A system?"

"Yeah. I do the work and he watches. He's amazingly good at watching."

"He is, that," Ratchet said with a chuckle. "You have him tomorrow. I have to do physicals and the refugees are getting closer every day."

"Such hard duty," Ironhide said. "We'll try and get along."

"Keep a firm hand, Ironhide," Ratchet said with a smirk. "Just keep a firm hand."

They both looked down at the sleeping sparkling and smiled. Then they drifted off into recharge together.

=0=Later that morning

Sunstreaker stood on the tarmac waiting for Silverbolt to load. He stood with Bluestreak who had his arms around the yellow Lamborghini and his brother was beside him holding his duffel bag. Beyond them over by the Aerialbot’s monsoon hangars, mercs lounged and watched them as they gathered to go.

Sunstreaker was irritated and more edgy than usual. It was bad enough being sparked without having to rotate out to Autobot City, too. He wasn't an invalid, Ratchet had said, so he still had his regular duty. Sideswipe and Bluestreak had asked about his placement on the duty schedule and Prowl had said without a notice from Ratchet he was good to go as long as he paced himself. They were nervous about him being gone and he was irritated about going.

At the call, they parted. Sunstreaker kissed Bluestreak and nodded to his brother, duffel in servo as he walked up the ramp. They waited until it closed, then Silverbolt rolled away taking off without runway toward the sky above. They watched it disappear, then walked back to the hangar. As they did, Sideswipe watched the mercs staring at them. He saw a camera and then he saw it flash. Whispering to Bluestreak, he skated swiftly toward them.

The mercs began to run.

Sideswipe passed by and cut them off.

The group skid to a stop to stare at him terrified to their cores.

Bluestreak, terrified as well called for Prowl over their internal comm system as he ran forward toward the fracas.

Sideswipe with an expression of murder on his face moved slowly toward them, his swords sheathing and unsheathing as he went.

Bluestreak called to him catching his attention for a moment. Behind him charging out of the door of the hangar, Prowl and Jazz hurried.

Bluestreak turned around to step toward them with fear on his face as he waited for them to catch up. They all gathered as the three turned toward Sideswipe.

"Sideswipe, what’s going on here?" Prowl asked his tone calm and low.

"These fraggers are taking pictures of us. I saw their camera and a flash." He looked at Prowl with an enraged expression. "They're taking pictures of us in violation of the rules."

Prowl looked at them then stepped forward to stop next to Sideswipe. "You need to give me your cameras and phones."

Tim Bolton looked at Prowl then shook his head. "No I don't."

"You do," Prowl said taking a step closer. "You can give them to me or you can give them to the officer of the day when you get thrown into the soldier's brig."

"Call the soldiers," Bolton said defiantly.

"I already have," Prowl said watching as a jeep careened around the corner and drove toward them. It screeched to a halt as Epps jumped out followed by Graham.

"Prowl?" Epps said jogging to stand between the Autobots and the mercs.

"Sergeant Epps, these mercenaries were taking pictures of our soldiers in violation of the regulations. We need to take their cameras and phones to ensure that the images don't get sent out."

"You can't take our gear," Bolton said turning on Epps defiantly. "We don't have to give them to you. We’re with Daniels."

Epps who was filled with fury stepped forward. "And I'm with Uncle Sam and if you don't give me the cameras and your phones I’ll have to take them."

Graham stepped closer, his fists balled. “Give up the cameras and phones. The rules are clear and you had to sign in agreement of them before you could come here. This is a top secret base and cameras are forbidden.” He stepped closer. “Give them over or we’re going to take them.”

"You can try," Bolton said squaring his stance for a fight.

Prowl and Sideswipe watching intently glanced at Epps. He was livid and ready to go.

As Prowl opened his mouth to speak, Epps' arm flashed out, his fist catching Bolton on the jaw.

Bolton staggered and corrected moving toward Epps with speed and fury. As he did, Graham squared off with the others who stepped back out of the way.

Epps and Bolton clashed, the two trading blows hard and swift, then Epps connected again. Bolton fell on his backside and sat with a dazed expression.

"You ready to give up, merc, or do I kick your ass some more?" Epps asked with his fists up and his feet moving as he watched the figure on the ground.

Ray Cristie and Dustin Carter, the other mercs shook their heads. Christie stepped in and took the camera and phone from Bolton's pocket handing him the two items and his own phone. "I wasn't taking any pictures."

"I don't give a damn," Epps said hotly as he handed them back to Niall Graham. "Get your sorry asses out of here before I drag them to the brig myself."

Christie grabbed Bolton's arm and dragged him up, the hothead shrugging off the other man. He looked at Epps, then the two Autobots. "You’ll be sorry you did this."

Prowl who was looking at Bolton with a bland and emotionless expression shook his head. "I'm sure I won't."

The mercs walked back in the direction of the barracks, one enraged and furious while the other two looked relieved to be alive.

Epps and Graham watched them go, then looked at Prowl and Sideswipe. "You two all right?"

Prowl nodded. Glancing back at the two disappearing mercs he looked at Epps. "Nice punches."

"Thanks," Epps said grinning slightly. He felt ridiculously pleased that a master martial artist considered him praiseworthy. "Felt good to hit one of them finally."

"I can imagine," Prowl said with a slight grin. "The cameras and phones?"

"We'll go over them and if they took pictures we'll take it up with Daniels. Thank you for calling us, Prowl. We don't like this anymore than you do."

Prowl nodded. "Thank you for your intervention. I don't want trouble but they seem to insist. One would think they were told to provoke."

"I'm sure they were," Epps said walking to the jeep. He and Graham both jumped in, then pulled out to drive toward their building.

The Autobots watched them go then Prowl turned to Bluestreak and Sideswipe. "Next time call us and allow us cover when we do something like this. Without the right people and bots here this could look really bad even if things turn out to be wrong."

Sideswipe nodded.

Bluestreak walked to him and hugged him.

Prowl watched the mercs disappear from sight then looked at the two. "How is Sunstreaker?"

"Impossible. He hates this so much," Bluestreak said sadly. "But he doesn't get violent. He just moans and groans about it."

"He's doing what he's supposed to isn't he?" Prowl asked.

"He is," Sideswipe said as he walked with them and Jazz to the hangar. "He’s sort of divided about this. Most of the time he's angry and sulking but then he’ll say something that’s happy and glad about it. I don't know."

"Well, we just have to help him," Prowl said as they entered the hangar.

Jazz smiled and slapped Sideswipe on the back. "Eyes on the prize, my son. Eyes on the prize."

=0=Autobot City, Mars

They arrived, settled into barracks, then walked to the rec room for a meal.

Sunstreaker, not the best company in normal times was in a funk and not having it from anyone. Most of the mechs who were used to his pattern avoided him when he was this out of sorts. But as he walked to a table to sit and sip his energon alone he found himself near to the mini-cons who had their own permanent table next to his.

He sat staring into his energon and considered the next seven orns on duty at this station. Around the room as Autobots relaxed, Ultra Magnus and Kup entered then spotted him.

Magnus paused beside Springer a moment as Kup continued onward, getting energon, then walking over to sit beside Sunstreaker. "What's up, Sunny?" he asked putting his peds on an empty chair.

Sunstreaker who loved the old mech just shrugged. "Stuck here for a few orns in rotation."

"Well, we'll try and make it worth your while," Kup said. "I'll have you detailed to me."

Sunstreaker warmed to the idea immediately. "Thanks, Kup."

Cliffjumper who was watching him with his usual disdain snorted. "What's the matter, Sunshine? You too good to be stationed here?"

Smoldering optics affixed themselves to the red mini-con and a feral look informed Sunstreaker's beautiful features. He clutched his energon tightly as he stared.

Cliffjumper, hotheaded and suffering from small mech syndrome ignored the warning signals as he leaned forward to sneer at Sunstreaker. "Too good. Too arrogant. Too much of a femme to stay here where the living is harder."

That was all that Cliffjumper got out before Sunstreaker launched himself over the top of the table, the top of Kup who had straightened up to turn around on Cliffjumper and over the top of the mini-con table. He launched himself, landing on his prey to disappear into a spray of shattered furniture and overturned mechs.

Chapter 128

=0=Diego Garcia

Sideswipe was shooting on the range with Bluestreak when the ruckus on Mars commenced. For a moment, they were smiling and talking, laughing about the targets and then they froze together as a terrible expression of rage and fury formed on their faces. Turning toward the airfield beyond, looking at the hangar nearby, they burst into speed, racing as fast as they could go. Bluestreak skid to a halt before the hangar door, turning in circles as he screamed loudly and shrilly. He balled his fists, turning slowly as he seemed to search for something.

Sideswipe racing to the airstrip turned around and around seeking something as he growled in a thunderous manner, his optics bleeding into white. He rolled toward a C-17, his threatening appearance scaring off the crews that were loading it. He rolled inside turning around and around as he struggled to understand what he was so completely compelled to do.

Emergency calls were made and from the hangar of the Autobot Embassy mechs bearing arms poured out. Bluestreak seeing the threat ran toward Sideswipe, pulled his weapon from subspace to fire. As he did, he was tackled by Mirage and Jazz, the two of them bringing him down to pull his rifle free. It skittered away as they grappled. Then Bluestreak through superhuman strength rose up and shook them loose. Staring around frantically, he pounced on Mirage and they went down.

At the plane, feeling Bluestreak over his bond, Sideswipe rolled downward rushing toward the Embassy with his swords drawn.

Bluestreak who was buried under Jazz, Mirage, Smokescreen and Prowl cried out piercingly.

Sideswipe hearing him scream hurried up and as he did he flew through the air with his swords flashing.

=0=Autobot City, Mars

It was a thundering crash, the sound of breaking furniture and falling screaming mechs. Sunstreaker with his focus on the throat of Cliffjumper landed squarely on him and they fell to the floor to roll over and over. He stood up at last, enraged as he held Cliff's neck in his servos. Then he began to toss the mini-con over the top of tables. Cliffjumper flying head over heels landed on a table and crushed it to the floor.

By the time that Sunstreaker moved to follow him he was swarmed by Kup and Springer, Ultra Magnus with fists up stepped between Sunstreaker and Cliffjumper who lay on the floor dazed. It took all three of them to drag Sunstreaker to the brig, cursing and fighting all the way. By the time they switched on the current of the bars he’d turned on them staring with murder in his optics.

Then he froze.

=0=Diego Garcia

They heard the ruckus, the screams, the shouting and by the time that Ironhide and Prime had reached the doors, Sideswipe was flashing toward the pile up in front with his swords gleaming. Moving faster than one would assume a mech as big as Prime could, he jumped the pile and rushed Sideswipe, tackling him mid body. Falling forward to landing on the Lamborghini with a crashing sound that jolted windows and shelves all around, they grappled on the ground in fury.

More mechs poured out and they watched with astonishment as Sideswipe and Prime dueled, rolling on the ground until Prime pinned him flat.

He lay on the ground growling and screaming, Bluestreak likewise as he was pinned to the ground by four mechs. For a moment it seemed that they’d continue forever, then Ratchet appeared stunned at the sight. He glanced at Ironhide who was handing his sparkling off to Wheeljack who stood frozen on the spot. Moving toward Prime and Sideswipe, Ironhide froze as he stared at Sideswipe. As abruptly as it began, it stopped. Sideswipe relaxed his struggling.

Behind him buried under mechs, Bluestreak relaxed as well.

Prime glanced over his shoulder, calling to Ratchet who hurried to him.

Ratchet knelt beside Prime. "What happened?" he asked as he glanced at the slowly calming Sideswipe lying beneath Prime.

"You tell us," Prime said looking up with the strain of exertion clear upon him.

Ratchet looked at Bluestreak behind him and Sideswipe next to him, then got it. "The programming … the protection programming. Sunny. He must be in trouble."

=0=The Brig, Autobot City, Mars

He stood silently, listening to the tumult reaching him over their bond. It was massive, a tidal wave of emotions and mindless rage. He absorbed it feeling calm almost at once. It was right what they were doing, it was good and right and he waited for them to do what they had to do. They would protect him, the sparkling and him. He’d be safe now and so he listened as outside the bars Springer, Kup and Ultra Magnus watched with loathing and dread.

=0=The Embassy, Diego Garcia

The buildings all around emptied out as people swarmed to the sound of chaos and murder. They grouped together not willing to come too close and watched as Ratchet moved between the two Autobots that were down and the mechs who were holding them.

Ratchet knelt beside Sideswipe, the mech pinned firmly by Prime. { **Sideswipe!** **}** he called out loudly. He repeated himself and finally drew the mech's attention, the streaks of blue in his optics pooling and gathering to replace the white hot rage that was bleeding away as he calmed. He stared at Ratchet for a moment without comprehension, his vents racing as he expelled the heat that had gathered over every square inch of himself during his brief moment of madness.

 **{** **Sideswipe!”** Bluestreak screamed as he tugged at the servos that held him as he failed to free himself.

Sideswipe hearing Blue cry, screamed himself as he tried to break free.

Ironhide knelt to help Prime hold him as he struggled.

Ratchet rose and hurried to Bluestreak to kneel beside him. **{** **Bluestreak!** **}** he cried out to the gunner looking at him with wild optics. For a moment, Blue struggled and growled, then he fell limp from exertion. He lay quietly with his optics shuttered as he vented heat from his body. Then he on-lined them to look with bewilderment at Ratchet. "Ratchet? What's happening?"

Ratchet arose to walk to Sideswipe who lay quietly with his optics offline. Kneeling, he touched Sideswipe's face turning it toward him.

Sideswipe looked at Ratchet, for a moment uncomprehending, then blinked his optics. "Ratchet?"

Ratchet tapped Prime nodding to the big mech who carefully climbed off.

Sideswipe lay a moment with exhaustion evident, then sat up groggily. He glanced at Bluestreak then rose quickly to stumble toward Blue as he sat dazed on the ground. He knelt and gripped Bluestreak looking him over carefully, sniffing him and measuring him with his optics. "Blue?"

"Sideswipe … where's Sunny? **What's happened to Sunny?** " Blue said as he rose unsteadily, gripping Sideswipe's arm as he staggered up. They looked around with confusion and fear gripping them then, they moved forward stumbling toward the airfield.

Ironhide blocked their way.

Sideswipe pushed him. "We have to find Sunny!"

"You have to **stop** ," Ironhide said gripping Sideswipe's arms. He noted Ratchet watching them silently, evidently listening to an internal comm. They turned to him and waited

Then Ratchet nodded to himself as he signed off. He turned toward the group. "Sunstreaker is all right," Ratchet said.

The expressions of relief on Blue and Sideswipe were painful to see.

Blue hugged Sideswipe desperately. He looked at Ratchet with confusion on his face. "What's happening? We **have** to see Sunstreaker."

"I know," Ratchet said walking toward them. "Come to Med Bay with me. Then we'll take care of the rest." He turned to Prime. "This is programming, just like with me and Ironhide. I have to shut it down."

Prime nodded watching as Ratchet tugged on the two mechs.

As they moved away, Sideswipe looked at Prime with an expression of grief and disbelief. "Prime … I don't ..."

Prime cut him off. "Go with Ratchet, Sideswipe. We'll talk later."

Sideswipe looked around himself, then nodded as he slipped his arm around Bluestreak. The two followed Ratchet to disappear into the building.

Everyone stood quietly a moment then the mechs began to disperse.

Lennox and Epps watching nearby walked to Prowl and Prime who knelt and explained what had happened.

=0=Brig, Autobot City, Mars

Ultra Magnus logged off Ratchet's call, then looked at Sunstreaker for a moment in surprise. Of all the mechs he ever knew who would spark, he never figured this one would. It was indeed an accident for it to happen. "Sunstreaker.”

The big yellow mech sat on the bunk staring at the floor, his arms crossed in front of his spark chamber. He didn't hear Magnus. His focus was on the bond.

Magnus glanced at Inferno. "Shut off the bars."

Inferno reluctantly complied as Magnus walked inside to sit beside Sunstreaker. He touched his arm gently. "Sunstreaker? Can you hear me?"

Sunny looked b at Magnus. For a moment, he didn't see him and then he did. He nodded.

"Blue and Sideswipe are fine. Do you understand?"

Sunstreaker already knew that. They’d protected him. They’d come to his rescue. He didn't know where they were at the moment but they’d come to his rescue. He nodded.

"We need to get you back to Diego. Come on," he said tugging Sunstreaker's arm.

=0=Med Bay, Diego Garcia

Bluestreak and Sideswipe sat on a med berth with numerous cords plugged into them.

Ratchet watched data flash past on the screens above them and when he found what he wanted he paused the scan. "There it is. It's so archaic it's in the basic foundation codes of our CNA."

"What can you do about it?" Prime asked as he looked at the screen to see only data that he couldn't read.

"I can write and download code that will prevent activation," Ratchet said picking up a small hand held computer.

"Can you download it into everyone? I do not want anything more to happen because of this. We have been lucky so far."

"What did happen?" Prowl asked moving to stand beside Bluestreak, squeezing his servo as he did.

"Apparently, Cliffjumper decided to run his mouth against Sunny and ended up being thrown across the rec room," Ratchet said looking up from his computer.

Prime frowned. "Were there witnesses?"

"Kup and Magnus for a couple," Ratchet said with a grin. "You know the mini-cons. Some of them don't know when to shut their pie holes."

"Sunstreaker is all right?" Bluestreak asked anxiously.

"He is. Funny thing, the moment you two went off he stopped," Ratchet said. "Interesting."

"If you say so, Ratchet," Prime said unamused. "We're sending for Sunstreaker but Sideswipe, we need you to take his shift."

Sideswipe nodded as he glanced at Bluestreak who squeezed his servo.

Prime turned to Ratchet. "Let me know what is possible. I want everyone to get the code unless that violates ethics."

"I don't see how," Ratchet said. "I'll start with Ironhide and me after these two."

Prime nodded then walked out with Prowl.

Ironhide with Orion in the crook of his arm sat nearby watching the show.

Ratchet glanced at them, then grinned. "Taking a break from moving your slag?"

"We're union. Its legal," Ironhide said with a smile.

"Ah. Well then, by all means," Ratchet said with a smirk. He began to download code into Sideswipe and Bluestreak, the two waiting silently as he did. When he was done he removed the plugs. "You're good to go."

Bluestreak nodded with relief then waited for Sideswipe who looked at Ironhide. "Do you think Prime's going to be mad at me?"

"Nope."

Sideswipe grinned in spite of himself, then stood up and walked out the door with Bluestreak.

Ratchet watched them go, shaking his head slightly. "Young love."

Ironhide snorted. "Mating rituals of the young and stupid?"

"Were you never young, Ironhide?" Ratchet asked, grinning at him as he walked to sit on the berth.

"Never," Ironhide said.

"Me neither," Ratchet replied with a chuckle. He plugged in Ironhide and himself, then a slender plug for Orion.

"Him, too?" Ironhide asked watching as his sparkling fussed, his little optics narrowing in displeasure.

"Don't want any scenes in pre-school," Ratchet said with a smirk.

Ironhide smirked back. "No. We don't want that."

=0=Cosmos

He landed on Earth as mechs and cargo were offloaded including Sunstreaker. He was met by Bluestreak and Sideswipe who hugged him and compared notes.

Then as Cosmos prepared to leave, Sideswipe picked up his duffel and weapons to walk up and into the shuttle. He stood at the door until it closed, then walked to the front and sat down leaning against a bulkhead to rest his helm on his knees all the way to Mars.

=0=Lennox, Epps and Graham

They drove in for the weekly meeting but they came early today. Today, they would see the infant. They’d heard only a snippet here and there but no more. Walking across the tabletop, they took their seats to wait.

Autobots were filing in and they chatted as they waited for the rest to show.

Ratchet walked in grinning broadly.

"Hi, Will, Bobby, Niall," he said affably as he settled down in his chair.

"Hey, Ratchet. What happened? Prime told us it was medical," Bobby asked.

"It was. Damned youngin's don't take their supplements," Ratchet said only half telling the truth.

"I'm sure Daniels will have a different spin on it. You might be ready for that when the hearings happen," Niall said.

"I'll be ready," Ratchet said glancing up as Ironhide, Prowl and Prime walked in at last.

Ironhide sat down, his infant firmly in place.

The soldiers seeing it rose, then walked closer.

"Hey, Ironhide," Lennox began. "He has your face. I think."

"What's that in his mouth?" Graham asked peering closely at the infant who was looking back at them with big round optics.

They were his size. Oh joy.

"That's a binky," Lennox said glancing at his partner. "You don't have kids. You’d know that those things are a godsend."

Ironhide and Ratchet grinned, then Ironhide set the infant on the tabletop.

Orion was parked, then looked at them with unblinking optics.

"He's really cute," Lennox said smiling at the two foot and a half foot tall carbon copy of Ironhide who sat looking up at them. He knelt and stroked the infant's cheek touching his finials. "Those are so cute." He looked at Ironhide. "How is it that the same thing on him looks so good, Ironhide and well, you on the other hand ..."

Everyone laughed but Ironhide who smirked. “Ha, ha, Lennox.”

"That sparkling is one devilishly handsome little sparkling," Ratchet said defending Ironhide.

"He's going to break sparks some day," Ironhide said proudly. "Pretty near perfect sparkling if you ask me."

"His nose … it's so cute," Epps said squatting in front of the sparkling. "It's pug like yours. But on him it looks good."

General laughter broke out.

Ironhide smirked. "Smart afts."

"What does he look like without the binky?" Lennox asked.

Ironhide leaned forward to turn the infant around. Then he took the binky's ring and began to pull.

Orion clenching down grinned around it thinking his good ole dad was playing. He tugged himself as they tugged back and forth, neither side letting go. Then Ironhide gave it a stronger tug and it came out with a pop.

Orion looking around at the chuckling audience glared at his big old dad with the deepest expression of betrayal and disbelief he could muster. Then with a scrunching of his optics and his little face, he burst into tears. He sat limply, his arms hanging at his side and then fell face first onto his legs to lie limp and wailing.

Ironhide, his optics as large as truck tires looked at his son,, then reached down to lift his chin hoping to sit him back up.

Orion wailed and when Ironhide removed his hand he fell face first back downward.

Ratchet reached out to lift him, settled him in his arm and took the binky to insert it into Orion's mouth. He stopped crying as he sucked on it with relief. He look at his father with the most perturbed expression of disbelief possible before settling down again.

Lennox, Epps and Graham watched Orion, then Ironhide. "Well, we know who wears the pants in this family," Niall Graham said with a chuckle.

Ironhide looked at them, then reached for and took his son back, holding him up to kiss him. "Ratchet wears the pants in our family doesn't he?" Ironhide said with a smile.

Orion looking at him with teary optics smiled around his binky. It was unanimous.

  
  


Chapter 129

=0=Ops Center

The senior staff gathered around Teletraan II looking at the intel that had come through the night before. There was a list of e-mails included that confirmed a meet up with 'Night Flyer' at a mansion he’d rented in Aspen, Colorado. It was not far from the house that Nast owned. In one week, they were expected to gather, Nast, Galloway, Daniels, Weaver and Shockwave.

The Autobots would be there, too.

They discussed the situation together, who would do what and how they’d not only ensure that Nast would be there and on his game but how they themselves would be able to listen in to collect data. It was not completely clear why Shockwave had murdered the informant in the weapons exchange. It could be that he was just keeping loose ends tidy or that somehow he’d found them out. Either way it was problematic.

"I’m leaning toward him tidying things up. He hasn't spiked the connection or used anything to trace back to us. So far, our connection is clean and functioning. Nothing Cybertronian appears to be working against us over it," Prowl said quietly. "There’s nothing in the e-mails to indicate that he has suspicions and there are no indications that he’s increased the number of active Decepticons here on the Earth."

"I would like to enter this with the idea that he has suspicions but with obvious caveats. It could be that he is just that ruthless, which most of us can attest to from long vorns of experience with him. He could just be closing paths that might lead back to him. We do have the Seekers and he might know that or he might not. We do not know and cannot second guess anything. We have seen worse from him but I do not want to take chances. I want our stakeout to be there days in advance. This is a resort area. If we cannot use Nast's house as a base then I want to hire a house nearby. We have to be especially careful," Prime said.

He turned to Lennox who with Fulton, Epps and Graham listened while sitting on the console. "We need you to help us with that aspect and to be boots on the ground. Do any of you ski?" he asked with a grin.

Epps and Graham smiled.

"We do," Epps said glancing at Lennox. "He doesn't. Maybe you can learn."

Prime grinned. "Nice cover, teaching him. The chalet that Shockwave rented is on a ski run."

"Well, a duty I can finally get into," Graham said.

"Good," Prime replied. "Then to Snowmass you go."

=0=Med Bay

Sunstreaker sat on a berth with Bluestreak next to him, his arm around the yellow Lamborghini. Sunny bore his usual frown, his tension evident in every curve of his elegant form.

Bluestreak leaned on his shoulder with the cords plugged into each of them downloading code.

Ratchet walked to them with a scanner then ran it over the Lambo. "How do you feel, Sunstreaker?"

He shrugged diffidently looking away from both of them with a sour expression.

Ratchet looked at the two and felt a pang. "You know, Sunstreaker, you were lucky you didn't hurt yourself and the sparkling."

Sunny's helm jerked up. "I wouldn't hurt any sparkling, Ratchet. Not mine or anyone else."

"Fighting with Cliffjumper was hardly a good idea."

"He's lucky to be in one piece, the fragger. If I see him again he's going to be sorry he was born."

Bluestreak squeezed Sunstreaker's shoulders. "He was a slagger to talk to you like that."

Sunstreaker looked at Bluestreak. "He could’ve made it all public. He didn't." Sunstreaker looked at Ratchet sharply. "You didn't tell them did you?"

"Just Magnus.”

Sunstreaker's expression turned to poison as he dropped his helm, shaking it in aggravation.

Ratchet reached over to raise his helm fixing him with a sharp expression. "He had a right to know that you had reasons beyond your reputation to do what you did. Cliffjumper is in the brig and will be for thirty days."

Sunstreaker considering this smiled with pleasure. "Good."

"I agree," Ratchet said with a slight smile of his own. "I asked Prime to keep you here until separation. What I want to know is do you want to separate here or on Mars?"

"I don't want to do it at all," Sunstreaker said fiercely.

"Well, then what’s your second option? Earth or Mars?" Ratchet persisted. "Or do you need to hold Orion a bit longer before you decide to accept reality or not?"

Sunstreaker looked at Ratchet with an expression that anyone else would have fled but Ratchet returned the gaze waiting for him to decide. He did. "I would like to hold Orion for a while," he said softly.

Bluestreak smiled and squeezed his shoulders. Looking at Ratchet expectantly, he stepped down tugging Sunstreaker to his peds. Blue pulled Sunny into Ratchet's office, the two sitting on the couch as Ratchet left to find his sparkling. Bluestreak slid his arm around Sunny's shoulders kissing him on the cheek. "Are you going to be okay?"

"No." [intense frown]

"You really planted Cliffjumper good?"

"Yes." [savage smile]

"I love you."

He looked at Bluestreak, squeezing his servo tightly. "I hate this."

"We know," Bluestreak said with a grin.

=0=Ops Center

"I need him for a moment."

"You do?" [pout]

"Sparkling therapy."

"For Sunstreaker?"

"Yes."

Ironhide reluctantly coughed up his sparkling. Ratchet t ook the infant and kissed Orion several times on his little face. 

The infant chirped at his carrier bringing the room to a halt for a moment.

Then Ratchet tucked him into his arm  to leave . 

Ironhide gripped his arm for a moment. "You ****will** ** bring him back."

Ratchet grinned. "Yes, Ironhide, I  ****will** ** bring him back."

"We have a date with the armory. We have to finish storing my munitions and it's like my old mentor used to say. 'It isn't a job if it doesn't have a straw boss'."

"Old Hercy used to say that?" Ratchet asked remembering a bot as old as the universe.

"All the time."

"As he sat on his aft being the straw boss," Ratchet said.

"Of course," Ironhide said with a grin. "Don't be too long. He’ll miss me."

Ratchet looked at the sparkling lying in his arms looking at them with his usual unknowable expression. "I can see that." Then he walked away aware that Ironhide's optics followed him all the way out of the door.

=0=Med Bay

He walked to his office pausing at the door.

Sunstreaker was slouched on the couch, Bluestreak whispering into his audials his arms around the big front liner. They looked up as Bluestreak sat up. Sunstreaker who was slumping on the couch looked at the little sparkling.

Ratchet held him out so Sunstreaker took him, leaning back to look at the little infant who looked back with his unwavering gaze.

Yellow Face was back.

Ratchet sat at his desk busying himself with his work as he ignored the two who sat nearby enjoying his infant.

Bluestreak was loving and vocal while Sunstreaker was silent.

A surreptitious glance now and again let him know that Orion therapy was good for the sullen Lambo. He held Orion gently, touched his little digits and peds as he looked at him, enjoying his company silently.

Ratchet smiled.

Again.

=0=Outside at the air field

They gathered on the tarmac, strike teams that would be going to Colorado. Perceptor and Wheeljack were included as they would be running intel collection and monitoring Nast. Nast would come out later on closer to the date of the meet up with Prime who would oversee the entire operation. When he did he would be as ready as he could as well as wired for sound and video.

Ratchet had placed a tiny transmitter into Nast's ear, one that was designed to mask detection. He also placed a number of other bits of metal around the human's body as a counter measure, all of them mimicking normal surgical enhancements for injuries in humans. They were of Terran metallic design and composition, enough here and there to make one more if detected seem innocuous. They knew Shockwave would scan. They hoped he would be fooled.

Nast for his part was terrified. He was caught between two immovable forces, the Autobots and the Decepticons. Either way he had little to hope for beyond keeping his skin. He couldn't even appeal to the U. S. government for sanctuary so great and clear was his treachery.

The soldiers had been finally brought up to speed on the entire matter. They’d asked to speak to Nast, a request that was granted. They’d met in the brig, the three and Colonel Fulton looking at him with something akin to hatred.

Fulton began. "You need to talk to us and tell us everything you can, Mr. Nast. If one of my men or any of the Autobots dies because of what you've done you **will** hang. I will **personally** hold the rope."

Nast swallowed hard glancing at the other three in the brig besides himself and then he began. When he was done telling every thing he knew and all the supposition that he could manage they left him without a word.

Entering Silverbolt, the two teams, the soldiers and the two scientists took off heading for the snow covered Rocky Mountains and a date with a demon from another world.

=0=In the armory earlier

Orion who back with his father sat on a box watching as the big black center of his entire universe stacked things in a locker. It was already packed with munitions and weapons, rifles and guns of all sizes hanging on hooks along the inside walls. Ironhide who was keeping a running commentary about what he was doing moved things around and put the last bit of the dangerous stuff that was kept around the quarters since before their good fortune to spark into a safer containment.

Turning around to get more, he grinned at the infant, a tiny black and yellow bit of fluff sitting on a stack of grenade boxes. He looked so cute and sweet that Ironhide had to take a moment to manage the emotions that arose in him. Walking to the infant, he leaned in closely. "You’re one cute little thing," he said picking him up to hold him before his face. "I don't know what I’d do without you. And Sunstreaker? He's going to find out, too." Tucking him into the crook of his arm, he began his rounds making sure that everyone was safe inside the embassy.

=0=In Aspen that night

They arrived and drove to their house, Nast's house, entering, then turning on the lights. They emptied the five car garage that belonged to the 'cabin'. It was the usual mountain mansion, many rooms, immaculate décor and a garage filled with vehicles only used a few times a year. They drove out a jeep, a range rover, two pickup trucks and a trailer filled with snow machines. Putting them out of view behind the house, the Autobots rolled inside out of the snowstorm.

Perceptor and Wheeljack hunching over in the open storage part of the garages put together the surveillance equipment and monitors that they would use during the conversation which would take place in four days. They had the capability to listen to a perfectly level conversation over ten miles away due to Nast's implant. Otherwise, the clarity would fall below unimpeachable standards even if it would be courtroom admissible.

Ironhide, Trailbreaker, Bumblebee and Smokescreen squeezed in maintaining their vehicle modes as Jazz sat nearby leaning against a wall.

Lennox stood in the doorway of the house, itself a five bedroom palatial palace. He snickered.. "This looks like the worst slumber party I ever saw."

"Ha ha, Lennox," Ironhide said as his holographic image flashed to life.

Lennox, never having seen it before stepped down to walk toward it. "Hide, you never showed me this.”

"You never needed to see it until now. Handsome devil no matter what form I take, don't you think?" he said as he lounged against the side of himself.

Lennox nodded, then called to the others. " **Hey, Epps! Graham! Get in here!** "

They came and stepped down to stare at Ironhide's holo-image with a look of shock and surprise. "This is awesome. Can the rest of you do it?" Graham asked, jumping slightly as images popped into view all around him.

Ironhide was very tall, brawny and tough looking. A handsome enough figure, he looked invincible and a little intimidating. Dark hair contrasted with his blue optics. On his arm were the tattoos he wore on his body, all of them in tight circles, tiny glyphs of a dark brown metallic color.

Trailbreaker was handsome and rugged in his holograph, tall and well made. He had short hair and looked like he could punch his way through stonewalls. He smirked at the soldiers and moved slightly to allow Bumblebee to step out of the crowd.

At least it appeared to be Bumblebee. He was youthful, slim and compact. His complexion was pale and his thatch of longish blond hair curled around his ears. He was cute all around and youthful as he stood next to Trailbreaker, a reflection of his sweet Autobot personality.

Jazz, moving around the end of Ironhide's alt truck format smirking at the men who stared at him. He was African American, handsome and well made, his humor and elegance so much a part of him that no matter what format he took it shone like a beacon out of him. He reached out to touch Lennox. The soldier feeling him do so reached out to take Jazz's hand. He squeezed it, looked at it and turned to the others. "His hand is warm and solid. Amazing."

Smokescreen, a tall rangy individual stepped around Ironhide to look at them, his black hair, handsome face and familiar knowing smile unsettling. He looked like himself, like the smartest man in the room, someone with a great secret he wasn't going to tell anyone else. Then they disappeared leaving the room strangely empty.

"'Hide? Where did everyone go?" Epps asked as he stepped closer to the Topkick truck.

"Takes a lot of energy to do that to the degree that we just did," Ironhide said from somewhere in the middle of his truck form. "We can do it but not forever. Some of us can do it longer and make more images, too."

Lennox looked at Wheeljack and Perceptor who looked back at them. For a moment, they stared at each other, then their holograms appeared, two of them side-by-side staring at the soldiers curiously.

Perceptor was tall and rangy, his hair black and his complexion pale. He was handsome and elegant, the type of sort who was a gentleman no matter what or who he was.

Wheeljack looked more of a sport, a tall blond haired figure with a smile on his face. He was big and broader, stronger looking than Perceptor and then they disappeared, the robotic forms of the two once more their sole representation.

"That’s so cool," Lennox whispered. "You have to do that more often. It would come in handy on assignments."

"We would need to boost our power considerably," Perceptor said as he considered the problem. "We could," he said turning to Wheeljack. "We'll put it on the list." With that, he turned back with his partner and began to work once more.

Lennox grinned as he patted Ironhide. "Anything we can do for you out here?"

"Nope. Get me my sparkling," Ironhide said.

"Sorry, Ironhide. No can do," Lennox said with a chuckle.

The others begged off so they went inside determined to enjoy Nast's hospitality to the fullest. The garage settled down and so did the bots, waiting out the storm outside and the one gathering on the horizon in less than four days.

  
  


Chapter 130

=0=Autobot City, Mars

They stood on the promontory, a rise of hillocks on the Tharsis Plain. Beyond them in their line of vision was Autobot City. Behind them, rising with a glory that was unknown on the Earth was the awesome form of Olympus Mons. Mount Olympus, the greatest volcano known in the solar system, so tall it created its own weather in its cloud-covered summit cast a massive shadow across the plain which curved toward them as the sun continued its traverse. They’d flown around it experiencing joy together and now they were resting because Starscream was still weak and prone to dizziness.

"This is a good world." Skywarp turned to Starscream. "I can live here."

Thundercracker sitting beside Starscream nodded. "I like it. Cybertron is my spark's home but this will do."

Starscream looking at the sky considered their remarks. "There are only six of us here."

They looked at him considering his mood. "Six is more than nothing," Skywarp said.

"Six is not enough to ensure that our kind do not die out someday. All it would take is an accident or two." Starscream looked at his servos studying them as if he hadn't seen them before. "It would be a cruel thing to have survived all that we have only to disappear from here when we are safe and secure."

"What do you want to do, Starscream?" Skywarp asked.

"We must continue," he said glancing at the two. "We must keep our kind alive." He thought a moment. "I wonder if there are Seekers out there that are wandering? I wonder if it would be possible to bring them here?"

"We could ask Prime but I don't know that he would have any idea beyond us about what is out there," Thundercracker said.

"I want to talk to the refugees. To Magnus. I want to know. Then we have to consider hatchlings of our own," Starscream said quietly. "We cannot disappear." He looked up. "Who would fly in these skies if we do?"

They sat together quietly for a while before taking off once more.

=0=Starscream and Magnus

He sat on a bench outside their barracks soaking up the sun that shown down brightly. He waited for the one he’d asked to come. Starscream sensing his presence opened an optic to stared upward at him. "Sit, Magnus. I need to ask you something."

Magnus moving carefully eased his bulk down beside Starscream. He leaned back and they sat together comfortably and silently. "It's a good sky here, Magnus," Starscream said. "Very nice to fly and so much interesting territory. There is a giant canyon on the plain that runs for thousands of miles and we flew it yesterday. Very intriguing."

"I'm glad you're up to it, Starscream," Magnus said. He actually was. The Seekers had been model citizens of their city and he was warming slightly to them although he doubted he ever would totally trust them.

"We want to know something," he said affixing Magnus with his red optics. "Were there other Seekers out there? Did you see them anywhere?"

Magnus thought back then nodded. "I saw a few here and there."

Starscream nodded. "I would like them to come here. I would like a colony here that can raise hatchlings. I am concerned that our kind will disappear if we do not act."

Magnus felt his objections rising, then quashed them considering what Starscream was proposing. "You would have to assume that any Seekers that came here would be willing to live within the rules that you and your brothers have agreed to. What guarantees would we have that they would step away from war and join you in peace?"

"You would have our word, our personal and Seeker oaths. You would have **my** word as Air Commander of all Seeker forces. They **w** **ill** obey me."

"No offense, Starscream, but you’re ill. How can you guarantee that a bunch of Seekers that are in top form would obey you?"

Starscream smiled slightly. "You underestimate me, Autobot. That has always been the problem with Megatron and now with you. You underestimate me."

"What do you want from me, Starscream?" Magnus replied gently.

"I want you to take my request to Prime. I want our Seeker kin to be here with us, to fly these skies, to help repopulate our numbers. We are a dying species without hatchlings. I  ****long** ** for hatchlings amongst us. I want to put out a call to them, the way that Prime had for you. I want them to come and live here, to fly these skies  and be at peace. I cannot live here this way knowing they are lost and wandering. I cannot live here this way knowing that an accident could mean the end of Seekerkin."

Magnus nodded. "I will tell him but I can't promise anything."

Starscream nodded then rose, ruffling his wings as he stared at the sky. "I dream of seeing an end to the misery of my kind. I dream of skies filled with Seekers flying. Give that message to Prime." Then without another word he walked inside.

Magnus sat a moment staring at the sky. In his mind there were Seekers there, multicolored Seekers flying and playing, falling and gliding, making their world seem more like home. Then he arose to walk back to his office in The Fortress.

=0=Later that same night

They lay together wrapped in each other's arms. The younglings were asleep and they finally found time to talk together.

"Magnus told me that Starscream would like to send a call for Seekers to come and stay at Autobot City."

"He did?" Prowl replied with surprise. "Would that be practical?"

"Magnus said that Starscream feels his prestige among them will hold. He said he rather believes it himself. Starscream wants hatchlings. He's fearful of their kind dying out."

"I can see his point," Prowl replied. "What are you going to do?"

"I am going to talk to him and see what I think," Prime said. "The Seekers are part of us and to think that they might not survive would not be good for me or our people to contemplate."

"Do you think they’ll start hatchlings among themselves?" Prowl asked.

"They must be discussing it," Prime said.

"I think they would be cute," Prowl said smiling. "Little Seekers with shiny wings buzzing around."

Prime smiled. "You like infants don't you."

"I do," Prowl said smiling. "Oddly enough, I love them. Seekers, mechs, femmes. All of them. Even the human babies are sweet. I’m as surprised as you about this but its real and I like it. I love the idea of children being around, their voices and hopefulness give me hope as well.”

"I really have no chance do I," Prime said chuckling at Prowl.

"No," Prowl said raising his helm to peer at Prime who was smiling back at him. "We have to set an example."

"Four mechs, three of them younglings and a grandson coming along. I think we are doing pretty well, Prowl," Prime said smiling.

"Magnificently, I think. I can't  ** wait  ** to see this sparkling. I can't  ** wait ** to hold it," Prowl said sighing softly. "Bluestreak is so excited."

"Sunstreaker looks like he swallowed poison."

"That will teach him to be reckless," Prowl said fiercely. Then he smiled. "Thank Primus he was. I get to hold a sparkling that belongs to us. We will have to babysit, Optimus. A lot."

Prime squeezed Prowl's shoulders. "I love you."

"I love you," Prowl said squeezing Prime back. "My life is perfect now." He grinned. “Almost.”

Prime smiled. "So is mine. You have no idea." / … mostly … / He grinned. He was doomed.

=0=Outside the Seeker's Barracks, Mars

He stood by himself as everyone else inside recharged. He stared up at the sky filled with a longing that was hard to describe. It ate at him, filling him with deep unease. He had so few memories to dwell upon, especially of the past few eons of his lifetime. Most of them were old and faint, the sounds of his family whispering to him, the feel of the sun on his wings as he first took to flight, the echo of old times long gone away.

Walking to the courtyard of the installation where the guards were occupied with their own musings, he spread his wings shaking them gently. Flying was his common memory, the flashes of other times, of his old life all tied together with the silver threads of flight. He shook his wings again feeling stronger than he had in longer than he could find in his memory. As he stood there musing, he came to a decision. Spreading his wings, stepping forward he transformed and flew off into the night sky. He would be breaking the gravity well of Mars before anyone looking would send out the call.

Starscream had flown away from Mars.

=0=Diego Garcia

He’d gotten the message after dropping off his children to their care center. Walking toward the Ops Center, he met Prowl half way across the command deck. They discussed his flight plan, the myriad problems it was causing, then dispatched two Aerialbots to intercept him.

Flying through the vacuum, the cold soothing to his sensitive skin, Starscream maintained a steady course toward Earth. Beyond the emptiness of the orbits of the planets a small island in the middle of a great ocean beckoned him onward. Streaking through the night, flying far better than he had in some, time Starscream made his way.

=0=Aerialbots

They met him as he came within fifteen minutes of Earth. Arcing about, they took up station on either side of him. From the moment he’d left the atmosphere of Mars he’d been on the radar and sensor nets of everyone who had a hand in the maintenance of Earth's security. All around the world, he’d been spotted and they were tracking him, following his path with their interlinked networks, satellites calculating every movement he made as he winged his way forward.

They didn't know who he was. They just knew he appeared around the edge of Mars and flew forth with great speed. Ops Center in N.E.S.T. and Ops Center in the Autobot HQ followed him as he came closer, the Aerialbots confirming that it was an 'unidentified Seeker' who was seeking audience with 'his Prime'.

The threat level was dropped when it was clear it was a 'confirmed neutral' and that the Aerialbots and the grounders at Diego Garcia would have it in servo. They flew into the upper atmosphere of Earth and downward, their flight path taking them to the island in the middle of the vast ocean. Landing gracefully, they rolled to a stop and transformed to be greeted by an armed guard and 'his Prime'.

Colonel Fulton who was standing beside Prime looked at the big figure who was an astonishingly handsome sight to behold. Another form of transformer, he was an aerial bot, different from the Autobot fliers in many ways, Fulton considered. He was colorful, brilliantly colorful and he shone like a mirror. He stood with an almost arrogant grace holding himself straight with a military bearing. His wings were beautiful, ruffling as he set them to rights as he looked at Prime without fear. "Prime."

"Star," Prime said. :You would do well not to let them know who you are. We would not be able to save you if they find out:

Starscream nodded. :I understand. I need to speak with you:

Prime nodded back, then turned to Fulton. "There is no danger here, Colonel. This is a neutral Seeker who wishes to speak with me."

"Is there anything that we need to know?" Colonel Fulton asked.

"I will be the first to tell you," Prime said.

Fulton nodded back and then began to walk back to the administration building nearby. "I will issue a stand down if you agree."

"I do," Prime said watching as the Colonel walked away. He turned to Starscream, shaking his head half with concern and half with amusement. "You have put us all in a bad way, Starscream. The whole world knows you are here and they had no idea before."

Starscream smirked. "I had to speak with my Prime," he said with a smirk. "Am I not still a citizen?"

Prime grinned at the big irrepressible Seeker. "Unfortunately, I do believe you are." He gestured. "Shall we go and talk?"

Starscream smiled, a rather rare and beautiful sight. "I would be happy to," he said as he stepped forward.

They walked together followed by soldiers with arms and disappeared into the Embassy together. The masses of humans that had gathered to see him spent some time together talking about the strange transformer who appeared to meet the configuration specifications as Starscream.

Small world.

=0=In the conference room

Starscream sat down, then accepted the energon given him by Prowl. Sitting himself, Prowl and Prime both waited for him to speak. He sipped his cube. "Good quality. Both here and Mars."

"We try," Prime said smiling slightly. "What brings you all the way here? Against orders, I might add."

Starscream snorted. "Orders? What orders?"

"You're going to use your memory loss to your advantage, I see," Prime said relaxing as he oddly enjoyed the moment.

"Advantages aren't advantages unless grasped," he said draining the cube. He set it down and folded his servos. "I wish to call to my kindred and bring them to this place of peace and safety."

"Magnus told me," Prime said.

"And your decision? I wish to know. My dreams plague me. Death and dying. Seekers falling out of the sky. I am a desolation of worry, Prime. It would be a loss uncalculated to our species if our kind disappeared."

Prime nodded. "I agree. I am thinking about it. Right now, we would be amiss to do it. Give us a week. Seven orns. Then I will sanction it."

"Seven orns," Starscream said. "What is time to me? I cannot find in my present any memories. It's all in the past that I find myself now. I wish to see Seekers in the sky, infants amongst us. I am lonely for a future for my kind."

Prime nodded. "We understand."

"You do," Starscream agreed. "No one can breach this system without you knowing it. Your defenses are surprisingly good considering you consort with organics who are as comparable to us as bacteria. Their technology leaves much to be desired."

Prime smirked. "They beat you twice."

Starscream frowned a moment. "I do not have memories of that. I will assume you are telling me the truth."

"The Fallen fell," Prowl added quietly. "Megatron is gone. We are secure here and our fellows are coming."

"The Fallen is gone?" Starscream asked musing on that detail. "I can almost believe that but I would be a fool to assume that Megatron won't come back. He will. He haunts me. He will kill all our kind unless we come to a safe place and have time and energy for hatchlings. Our hatchlings failed, I think. Maybe it was with the Fallen. I can't remember clearly." He sat thinking a moment. Then he glanced up at them both. "Call my people, too, and I will give you my word that they will be peaceable. We are all very weary."

Prime looked at him, considering his request for a moment, then nodded. "In eight orns, I will come to Autobot City and help you make the call."

"The Matrix," Starscream said.

Prime nodded. "We will send out the call and wait for them. They **will** come, Starscream. The Seekers and our lost brothers and sisters. We will take them in and protect them."

"There will be sparklings again," Starscream said. "Sparklings and hatchlings. It will be good. Very good."

Prime nodded. "I think we have agreement then?"

Starscream nodded and extended his servo. They gripped wrists and the electrical charge between them sealed the deal. Rising, Starscream looked around. "This is good." Then he looked at Prime appraisingly. "You almost make me think that Megatron won't be back but he will. He would never leave me alive. Never forget that, Prime. I can't."

Prime rose and took Starscream's arm leading him out of the facility and into the light. Cosmos was sitting on the tarmac as Prime turned to Starscream. "I would like you to ride back in Cosmos. It will help you conserve your energy."

"You think I need this?" Starscream said slightly amused and offended at the same time.

"If you are working on hatchlings, yes," Prime said.

Starscream smiled genuinely as he looked up at the sky. "I see them flying, their wings are beautiful and they are safe. That is what I see when I dream, Prime. What do you see?"

Prime smiled slightly. "I see an end to the war."

"Ah," Starscream said shaking his head. "We are both certifiable." With that, he walked onward boarding Cosmos to disappear back to Mars.

Prime stared after him with astonishment in his mind that he could feel something besides hatred for one of the most implacable foes of his long and fabled career. Then he walked back to his life.

  
  


Chapter 131

  
  


-0-Ops Center

Ratchet sauntered in carrying his sparkling in his arms and pulled a chair at the table along the middle. Plopping Orion down, he settled as the little mech reached for and picked up a ruler. He looked at it then flapped his arms, hitting himself in the helm about three times. Pausing his motions with a startled expression, he looked at it, then his creator as his optics narrowed.

Ratchet who was chuckling took the ruler and gave him his rattle, pulling it from subspace. He looked at it and smiled at Ratchet, flapping his arms with it. He hit himself in the helm again, freezing, then staring at the rattle with an angry expression.

Prowl who turned at the sound of the rattle walked over to pick up the sparkling. He sat on a chair next to Ratchet. He held Orion, kissing him several times then put him on his shoulder to pat his aft gently.

Orion who was pleased with the view beat on Prowl with his rattle, grinning as he looked around as only infants can with their intense unblinking stare.

"He hit himself on the helm," Prowl said with a smirk. "Takes after his father I can see."

Ratchet chuckled. "Spittin' image."

Prowl hugged Orion  then held him in front of himself, letting him stand on his wobbly legs. Orion chirped happily, waving his rattle as he bounced up and down in place. Prowl  who was uncharacteristically awash with love and admiration  and didn’t hide it from view kissed  Orion soundly then put him back on his shoulder. "I  ** cannot wait ** for our sparkling. It's torture to wait."

"Sparkling therapy. We're open all hours for business," Ratchet said leaning back to relax. "So when are you going to spark with that reluctant hero of yours?"

Prowl smirked. "Sooner than he thinks, later than I want. Right now, we have to get the little mechs along."

"Spirit is using sparkling speech or so I'm told. T-Bar is actually using words?"

"He is. He calls us both father," Prowl said with inordinate happiness. "Rambler is talking very well now that he's clear they belong to us. Spirit is behind. Optimus is so patient with them. Its sweet to watch."

"He always was a softie behind that fabled magnificence and all around self denial," Ratchet agreed.

"I'm impressed with Ironhide," Prowl said patting Orion's aft. "He's so taken with this sparkling. I imagine he's in agony over being away."

"He is," Ratchet said, not mentioning the almost hourly requests for 'what's going on?' that he’d gotten since the teams deployed. "He loves this sparkling. I figured he would but I had to know for sure."

"The prank war," Prowl said with a grin.

Ratchet nodded. "He can't give me an inch. Not even a centimeter or 'its on' as the humans say."

"You lasted a long time this time."

"Sixty orns," Ratchet said with a grin. "In the end we both won."

Prowl nodded, his expression thoughtful. "I figured out right away if we wanted sparklings it would fall to me. It's not that Optimus has a problem with carrying. He's rather calm about such things. It's just that I don't think he feels he has the time to be out of the mix, to be unable to defend and fight. He has always led from the front whether I wanted him to or now, the slagger, but I don't know how he'd feel if we ever did achieve peace and could have a personal life together that didn’t involve guns. I think that's the crux of his feelings about this."

Ratchet nodded. "I think that was part of what Ironhide was thinking, that and the fact that he doesn't see that as a part of who he is. It just didn't mesh with his overall fabulousness."

Prowl grinned. "He ****is**** rather a cute thing."

"He's the handsomest mech I ever saw. When I look at him my peds curl. When we put together Orion's protoform, I wanted him to be the spitting image of his father. From his finials to his peds, I wanted another handsome mech around me."

Prowl smiled, clear in his understanding that when Ratchet talked about Ironhide being absolutely handsome he was being serious. "He's a carbon copy," Prowl said, lowering Orion to look at him. "His little nose is so cute."

"I think so," Ratchet said proudly. "He's got the same handsome face, the same body type … he's just terribly handsome like his father."

Prowl smiled and kissed Orion who smiling back at Prowl. "You love your Uncle Prowl don't you," Prowl said. "Your Uncle Prowl loves you." He raised the infant to kiss him, then put him back on his shoulder once more.

Ratchet smiled then leaned closer, lowering his voice as he did. "May I ask you something personal? You don't have to answer but it’s intrigued me since you and Optimus got together."

Prowl nodded as he patted Orion's aft gently. "Sure."

"Ironhide is five feet taller than me, give or take an inch or two. When we … get intimate it's a logistical nightmare sometimes. Prime is eight feet taller than you. How do you two manage it?"

Prowl looked at Ratchet then chuckled. "Well … uh, Ratchet … good thing you're my doctor or I'd blush."

"If you  ****could** ** blush," Ratchet said  with a  chuckl e . "I’ve wondered about that since the start."

"It took a while to coordinate things." Prowl smirked. "He thought he’d crush me for a while."

"He probably could."

"Easily but he's gentle and considerate … like all of my fant-," Prowl said then caught himself. "Listen to me. Talking about 'facing in public." He looked around. No one seemed to be paying attention but he lowered his voice anyway. "It took a while but mostly I'm on top."

Ratchet snorted. "Undiscovered territory for me," he said with a chuckle. "Ironhide gives off this bulldog vibe but he's really sweet and even though we wrestle … his idea of foreplay … you can grow the mech out of the sparkling but you can't take the sparkling out of the mech … he's really very considerate. But I’ve never seen the pinnacle if you get my point."

"Never?" Prowl asked with surprise. "I have. Almost always."

Ratchet smiled. "Rub it in."

Prowl grinned. "Aww."

Ratchet chuckled again. "He's good in the berth so I suppose I shouldn't complain but he insists on being on top."

"Assert yourself, Ratchet. Let him know what you want."

"I got what I want," Ratchet said looking at Orion. "It's really okay. Its almost a running joke and I think that's how the wrestling started."

"Sounds fun. I couldn't wrestle Optimus. Even with all the skill I have in hand-to-hand, he's still just that much bigger and stronger than me. It must be what he feels when he goes against Megatron."

"Any other two mechs you could trounce handily," Ratchet replied.

Prowl nodded. "I know. But Optimus is in a league of his own, a phase sixer in my estimation. Ironhide gave him a handful when he was off his rocker and going after the mercs."

"He almost put Prime in the dust. Hard to see a father and son fall out like that," Ratchet said with a snicker.

Prowl smiled. "Family disputes are so sad but eventually the son outgrows the father."

Ratchet grinned. "I have to say Springer is one sexy bot. Good call on Prime's part, though I would’ve loved for him to have chosen a mini-con."

Prowl laughed aloud, drawing a stare or two. Leaning in toward Ratchet, he grinned. "Talk about height difference."

"Twenty feet perhaps."

Prowl sat back with a smile. "Being on the bottom isn't practical for someone my size and someone Optimus' size. I had that with Sentinel. He had a thing about being on top and he almost crushed me. Every single time I was facing the middle of his chest and he was taking off without me."

"Lousy 'face?"

Prowl nodded. "Not in his mind. He was a turbojet in his own mind. But he never made me happy. Poor Sentinel. He died so badly and he didn't really deserve it."

"If he were still going, you'd never have met Optimus and we'd be over. He would never have saved the Allspark or us."

Prowl nodded. "Optimus is a hero. He's the mech we needed."

"I never thought you two would be able to get together. I never saw two such bumbling love-struck idiots."

Prowl laughed, drawing gazes again. "I know. It  ** was ** sad wasn't it."

"Tragic," Ratchet said considering something. "You do know that Jazz and I had an operation to get you two together."

"I figured as much. I'm sure you had an operational name as well."

"Operation Get Prowl Laid."

Prowl paused to get the appropriate reference, chuckling as he did.

Orion who was bouncing against his shoulder squeaked.

Prowl lowered him, looking at him with a loving expression. "Your creator is a dirty old mech."

Orion smiled then reached for Prowl's chevron. P

Prowl kissed his face several times then put him on his shoulder again. "Your operation worked I have to say. Thank you, Ratchet."

"You’re welcome, Prowl." Ratchet looked around. "I wonder who else could benefit from some of my expertise? You **do** know that I hooked up Perceptor and Wheeljack?"

"I didn't know that. Bravo, maestro," Prowl said with a grin.

"They were almost as oblivious as you two," Ratchet said with a satisfied smirk. "Nothing like working the old spark strings."

"No, there isn't anything like it," Prowl said with a grin. "If you could have an affair with any mech you know, without Ironhide knowing of course, who would it be?"

Ratchet glanced at Prowl sharply then grinned wolfishly. "Any mech? Present bonds not withstanding?"

"You’d 'face with Optimus?" Prowl asked, intrigued by the possibilities.

"Who wouldn't?" Ratchet replied. "The comely messiah of our people? **I** would."

Prowl laughed, drawing stares again. He glanced around and they turned back to their stations. "When you put it that way."

"He's leading us to glory. Or as some people say it on the teevee, 'glow-ree'. I also think Springer is pretty sexy."

"I used to," Prowl said with a grim smirk. "That is, until he became the first Mrs. Optimus Prime."

Ratchet laughed out loud, drawing stares. "That's good. Shall I tell them both?"

"Don't you dare," Prowl said with a grin. "I think that the twins are quite beautiful and Sideswipe, I think, would be fun in the berth."

"Your … what do the humans call them? Your sons-in-law intrigue you?"

"Sure," Prowl said. "Aesthetically, they do. They're both beautiful, shiny and rugged. Makes you wonder. I used to wonder, then Bluestreak took that off my servos." He grinned. "It takes a bit of effort to accept that they're 'facing my youngling. Both of them."

"Sounds sexy," Ratchet said.

"It does," Prowl said.

They both laughed.

And drew stares.

"Optimus is leaving when?" Ratchet asked.

"Tomorrow."

"I wonder how the boys are doing? I hear they showed their hologram forms to the soldiers and freaked them out," Ratchet said.

Prowl paused to get definitions then grinned. "They did. I also hear that they're pretty confined in the garage of the house."

Ratchet nodded. "Ironhide is going crazy. But they're playing cards with the soldiers inside the house with their holo-forms. Says its fun."

"Good," Prowl said. "Lennox is learning how to ski so apparently it isn't a 'total bust'."

Ratchet snorted. "Optimus and the boys should try. You know, Ironhide has dreams in which he’s this sorry little red van."

"Oh, Primus. What a sad choice."

"I know," Ratchet said with a chuckle. "He actually thinks I’d date a mom van."

"Your image," Prowl said with a slight smirk.

Ratchet smiled brilliantly. "I told him so. I’d never date a mom van because I have an image to maintain. In another one of his dreams, Megatron was going to blow up a dam so Optimus and all of us apparently surfed on a tsunami to get there to stop him."

Prowl paused to get the imagery correct then laughed out loud. He looked at Ratchet intrigued by his lunacy which wasn’t a common occurrence around him. "Oh, **do** continue."

"Apparently we succeeded. Optimus was astonishing and sexy. He also was just red, white and blue. No flames or stuff."

"I love his flames. They're so handsome and sexy," Prowl said.

"At least in Ironhide's dreams, he's still a semi truck."

"What are you?" Prowl asked, smirking with amusement.

"A red and white ambulance. I have red crosses, red servos and a gray chevron on my head. Ironhide thinks its sexy. He tells me I should change my paint scheme."

"You should," Prowl said. "Change it for when he comes back. Putting a chevron on shouldn't be too hard. I think it’d be funny. Sort of give him his fantasy."

Ratchet stared at Prowl a moment, then grinned. "I like the way you think."

"Don't mention it," Prowl said with a grin. "I live to serve."

Ratchet nodded. "Don't we all."

-0-Later that evening

"Sunstreaker, here is what I need you to do."

Sunstreaker who was listening with half an audial perked up as each detail of Ratchet's commentary registered. By the time Ratchet was finished, he was grinning with wolfish glee. He nodded in agreement.

Operation Frag With The Mom Van was underway.

  
  


Chapter 132

-0-Night the day before

They sat together on the floor around a big coffee table playing cards and bullshitting. It was the night before battle and everything was in place. The intel collection was arranged. Anyone who would shoot had their assignments and placements. No one had faltered as they’d run the drills in the cabin. Lennox who was now a budding if somewhat inept skier was falling in front of the rental house Shockwave was now ensconced in with regularity.

The day before, a couple of large trucks and trailers had driven to the house to drop off a number of items. One notable one was a large wooden crate without markings. The other was a large truck, a big heavy duty Ram Charger. Several other cars had arrived and when the delivery trucks left and the night was falling, the truck and cars transformed. They moved into the house taking up the garage with the doors closed tightly.

Ironhide reported the situation with embellishment by the various bots and soldiers who had been gathering intel that day and felt the signal for go was going to be given. Nast would be flying to Aspen in Springer. The triple changer had come to Earth and studied the schemata for a small private jet. He’d assumed it and flown about the Indian Ocean learning its kinks.

Optimus would arrive on Silverbolt off loading at the Denver Airport and from there drive down to Aspen with Colonel Fulton as a passenger. The Colonel who was incensed with Nast had asked to be a part of the mission and was welcomed.

Silverbolt had already landed in Denver when Ironhide reported and Springer would take off in the very late evening to arrive in Aspen on time. He would wait at the airport to take Nast back barring catastrophe. He would also provide firepower if things went south.

It was all covered.

-0-Diego Garcia

Inside Man walked around the base working off a good dinner. He’d been working long stretches and the kinks were taking their toll. Outside in the warm air, the waning sun overhead, he watched as some of the Aerialbots and a new jet taxied toward the hangars for pick up. Some of the Autobots were going somewhere. He moved to a parked jeep to lean against it, waiting to see who was going.

The Embassy was quiet, the light inside illuminating groups of Autobots sitting here and there, some playing games, some energizing, most of them chatting. It was comfortable and he felt it again, the need to go inside and hang out. But it wasn't possible so he stood where he was and waited, leaning against the jeep as he watched the stars come out overhead. As he lounged, movement drew his eye. He saw several individuals walk out and head toward the jets.

One of them was a human, someone with a big hat on his head. He couldn't be determined as Inside Man wondered who he might be. Obviously, he didn't want to be seen. The human soldier with him was a special ops medic he’d seen around. They entered the green and yellow jet which turned around to move away, jumping into the air without a runway. It disappeared swiftly and was gone from view in seconds. He marveled at that once again as he saw others leaving as well.

Optimus Prime walked out followed by Prowl. He paused as they talked together. Then they kissed, a sight he’d become accustomed to among the bots, those in pair bonds and those in relationships of other kinds. There was even a rumor that a trine was here as well. Prime walked to the big Aerialbot that he recognized as Silverbolt. He wondered again about sentient aircraft and what it would be like to have a jet at your disposal twenty four/seven. It must be nice to be Prime, he thought.

A jeep careened around the corner and pulled up at Silverbolt as Colonel Fulton got out to join Prime on board. The hold hatch closed and the big jet rolled a short ways, then moved upward into the air effortlessly. In seconds it, too, was gone. He watched as Prowl watched, then Prowl turned to go back. He watched the big mech which to him was a beautiful exotic sight.

Prowl slowed to a stop a moment, then turned to look his way. For a moment, the big police bot stared then he walked back inside, his wings flicking with an incomprehensible motion.

He watched the tall bot, aware that he was smart, damned near invincible as a strategist and Prime's bond. He decided that he was glad he wasn't on that bot's shit list.

Unfortunately, he didn't know that he already was.

-0-Autobot City, Mars

He sat on the steps watching the sun set as behind him the bustle of a city with military and civilians bled out into the night. It was enough to remind him of memories of life back home when they had one. Cybertron was gone and he was here. This wasn't a bad place. Laughter drifted out and he knew who was making it. Mini-cons having a night of it.

He sat on the steps looking at the faintly flickering light of Earth and wished he was there. He wished he was with Bluestreak and his brother. But it wasn't to be. He was doing Sunny's rotation and he had to stick it out. A footfall behind him dragged him from his morose reverie and he looked up to see the merry optics of Kup greeting him.

He sat and handed Sideswipe a bottle. "Drink it, youngling. You'll feel better."

"I won't, but thanks, Kup," he said taking a big swig. "This tastes awful."

"It does," he said chuckling for a moment. "Wheeljack makes better. He makes some of the best high grade around."

"He does. Either that or I'm just used to it." Sideswipe said. He grinned. "What are you so happy about?"

"Oh, just the idea of this place. Gives me a good feeling knowing that sparklings will be born here. Your sparkling."

Sideswipe's optics narrowed. "My sparkling?"

"Sunny. He's sparked. You **do** know that don't you?" Kup asked.

"I do but no one else was supposed to," Sideswipe said frowning deeply. "Sunstreaker didn't want it out."

"Well, it is," Kup said. "Everyone knows."

"Oh great," Sideswipe said as a ferocious anger and an emotional outburst flowed over his bond link. Sunny and Bluestreak also knew now. He took the bottle and drank deeply wishing he were home once again.

-0-Med Bay

Ratchet finished toweling off his sparkling, patting him as they played boo with the towel, the intergalactic game all infants know from birth. He grinned, picking up the little baby to look at him with a suffusion of love. "Your old father wishes he was here. I can guarantee it."

Just then the door opened as Sunstreaker walked in followed by Bluestreak. He was enraged and began to pace back and forth.

Ratchet holding his sparkling with towel walked closer, looking from one to the other. "What's up?"

"Everyone at Autobot City knows," Sunstreaker said. "Someone told them. You told Magnus. Who told everyone else?" He came to a stop in front of Ratchet as fury radiated off his body.

Bluestreak looked at Ratchet with worry. "Who would have told them, Ratchet?"

"I didn't," Ratchet said shifting his sparkling to the other side. "Magnus wouldn't have told anyone."

"Then who?" Sunstreaker asked as he returned to pacing once again.

"Why in the frag do you  ****care** ** ** , ** Sunstreaker? You're sparked. You have one of  **these** coming," Ratchet said holding up his s on. "Why do you care if other people know about this?"

He stopped pacing to look at Ratchet with an unreadable expression. "I care because I'm a warrior. Because I'm a front-liner. Because I built my reputation one battle at a time."

"And you think being a carrier takes away from that?" Ratchet asked quietly.

"I do," Sunstreaker said.

"Didn't you hear a word Ironhide  ****said to you** ** ?" Ratchet asked  as he  sh oo k his head in dismay.

"I'm a  **warrior** . I'm  ****not** ** a carrier."

"Then you should've been  ** more careful ** . Your trine tried to help you but you didn't listen and now you have to face the music. I don't understand how you feel the need to fight this. You'll be getting ** one of these ** ," Ratchet repeated holding the sparkling up.

Orion looked at Yellow Face, his optics narrowing at the intensity of the emotion surrounding him.

Sunstreaker looked at the infant, studying his little face. "I didn't want this, Ratchet. I'm not cut out for it. I can't stand mechs talking about me like I'm a weakling."

"You think this is a weakling thing to do?" Ratchet asked as he passed the sparkling to Bluestreak. "Come in here." Ratchet gestured to his office.

Sunstreaker, hesitating, then walked inside.

Ratchet followed him and closed the door pushing the youngster into a chair. He sat in another one staring at the Lambo whose anger suffused him. "I wish I could tell you what an honor this was for me. Maybe you think its a lesser experience but this moment having that little sparkling, that’s the greatest creative act of my life. You should understand creation. You're an artist. This is a creative act, Sunny. You should  ****know** ** better than this."

He looked away. "I can't stand them talking about me like this. I'm used to being talked about. Some of them are jealous. I know I'm beautiful, Ratchet," he said matter-of-factly as he looked at Ratchet with all seriousness. "I know I'm fraggin' good at the things I choose to do. I'm an artist. I can fight better than anyone. I'm more beautiful than almost anyone I've ever seen. That's what I know. I'm what I can do. What I've achieved. I've made myself a place where I fit and no one challenges me. No one."

Ratchet nodded. "You're all those things, Sunstreaker. No one takes that away from you."

"This does. I can hear them laughing. Sunstreaker's sparked. He's a carrier."

"And you ****are**** ," Ratchet said. "You're sparked. You're a carrier."

His expression turned to poison as he looked at his servos.

"What do you want to hear, Sunny? That you're less because of this? That all you did means nothing because you have the luck to be sparked? If you want me to agree with you, I won't. You've held my son. My baby. Not one of those glitch heads in the garrison on Mars can say the same thing. I can say I have a sparkling and I did all the hard work. Frag 'em. Frag 'em all what they say and what they think. They don't have a sparkling. They don't have a mech or a femme. How sad and sorry they are."

Sunstreaker sat a moment brooding deeply, then he relaxed slightly, hanging his head in his angst. "I can handle being mocked by people who are jealous. I've lived with that all my life. I just hate being mocked for things I can't … I can't control."

"You can't control what other mechs think. You can only worry about the ones that matter, like Bluestreak and Sideswipe. They're so miserable now. Look at him," Ratchet said glancing at Bluestreak on the other side of the door window.

Sunny turned his head to look into the miserable optics of his bond.

Blue nodded, his chin quivering as he swayed side-to-side holding Orion.

"He looks great holding a sparkling. Pretty soon because of you, Sunstreaker, he'll be holding yours and Sideswipe's and his own." He looked at the Lambo. "Don't you find that wonderful?"

For a moment Sunstreaker stared at Bluestreak then all the fire left him. He sat with his elbows on his knees and his helm in his servos.

Ratchet squeezed his arm. "You're the bravest mech in the garrison and the colony, Sunstreaker. I wish you could know that."

Sunstreaker didn't speak but he looked at Ratchet with miserable optics. "I don't feel it, Ratchet."

"You are," Ratchet replied.

"How do you  ****know** ** that?" he asked his optics searching Ratchet's face.

"Because before you sparked, **I** was the fraggin' bravest mech in the garrison and the colony." Ratchet smiled then squeezed Sunstreaker's arm.

Sunny sat back, grinning faintly. "I don't want to go to Mars."

"You don't have to," Ratchet said. "You get to choose, Sunstreaker. Its your choice, you, Sideswipe and Bluestreak. And its clear to me that they just want you to be happy."

Sunny nodded. "I'm trying."

"I know," Ratchet said.

"I want you to do this … this  ** thing, ** " he said a flash of distaste overcoming him for a moment. "Here. You and me, here."

"I’d be  ** profoundly ** honored, Sunny," Ratchet said smiling broadly. "You and me."

Sunny nodded then sat up, rubbing his face with his servos. He stared at the floor then rolled his helm, relieving tension in his neck. "Can I hold Orion again?"

"I never thought you'd ask," Ratchet said rising to open the door.

Bluestreak gave Orion to Ratchet and Ratchet gave him to Sunny. The Lambo and the sparkling looked at each other. Then Orion reached out to pat Sunny's chassis with his tiny servos. He chirped as he looked at Sunny, almost as if he could see he needed cheering up.

Sunstreaker grinned the faintest of grins then leaned down to kiss the little infant.

"We get one of these?" he asked glancing at Ratchet for a second.

"You do," Ratchet said as he sat back down at his desk, pleased with the picture before him.

"I can't wait, Sunny," Bluestreak said leaning down to kiss Sunstreaker on the helm. "He'll be beautiful."

Sunny nodded as he stared at Ratchet. "He will," he said quietly. "He will."

Ratchet smiled. "With  ** his ** parents, how could he not be?" he said.

Sunny looked at him  with the faintest of grins . "Yeah.  ** Fraggin' yeah ** ."

-0-Autobot City, Mars

He could feel the tension ease up and the conversation between him and Bluestreak let him know that Sunny was okay. Ratchet was fraggin' awesome, he thought as he leaned against Kup, the two of them over energized at last. Behind them inside the building, laughter and conversation spilled out. As they sat in the cold night, mechs began to come out, some to catch the air and others because they had to sober up away from the hootch inside. Some of them joined Kup and Sideswipe on the steps, chatting together as long time friends and comrades of many battles. Some didn't because they were glitch heads and hadn't learned their lessons earlier.

Gears stumbled out pausing on the steps as he stared at the sky. Stars dotted the firmament and the night was quiet. As he stood there swaying from too much hooch, a Seeker walked past pausing a second to glance at them, then moving onward. Gears, his usual pissy paranoia coming to full flower called out to the Seeker, stumbling down the stairs as he did. **"Come here!"** he said repeating himself and as he stumbled down he stepped on Sideswipe's servo.

Sideswipe cried out and rose up, all twenty-five feet of inebriated Autobot menace coming to the fore immediately. He looked down at the small figure of Gears with wrathful optics. Anyone more normal, anyone more sober would have backed away. This was no mere aggravated Autobot he’d injured. This was one of a special set, split spark twins, front-liners extraordinaire, someone who enjoyed playing jet judo in the atmosphere with Seekers. Gears looked up as Sideswipe looked down. Then Gears found himself airborne landing in a heap near the gate.

For a moment it was silent, then the Seeker was back, looking at Gears laying on his back struggling to get back on his peds. The Seeker, Starscream looked at Gears like he was noticing at a stain on his ped for the first time. "What did you want, worm?"

Sideswipe watching Starscream smirked at the big mech's unbeatable disdain.

Gears sat up, then looked up, jolting at the sight of Starscream leaning over him. "What the frag?" Gears said staggering to his feet.

"You wanted me, worm. What the frag do you want?"

"Uh, I …" Gears sputtered.

"I thought so," Starscream said. "Complete fool." He began to walk away when Gears got his bearings back.

Gears moved forward, grabbing Starscream by his wings.

Starscream halted, screaming out in pain, then turned around to slap Gears across the courtyard. He landed against the steps bumping his helm against Kup.

Every Autobot on the steps rose up, suddenly serious and focused.

Starscream, fluttering his wings in pain looked at them defiantly.

Sideswipe who was standing with the rest looked at the mood of the crowd and the fact that Starscream was alone. He looked at Kup as Kup looked at him, then both nodded. As one, the two stepped over Gears who was struggling to rise again and walked to Starscream, turning to join him  against all the others with one  of them  on each side. 

The two sides stared at each other, then Kup laughed loudly.  **"** ****Come on, ya fraggers** ** **!** ****Come and get some if you got the bearings** ** **!"**

And they did.

  
  


** Chapter 133 **

  
  


-0-Optimus and Fulton, on the go day [D-Day]

They drove into Aspen on N. Galena after a nearly four and a half hour drive of a three and a half hour route. The snow and traffic had been a problem with people skidding and sliding off creating hazardous situations the whole way. Fulton who was relaxing in the cab chatted with Optimus as he made the pretense of driving but it was more of a show than reality. He was thoroughly enjoying himself.

-0-Springer and Nast, the night before [T-minus-1 day and counting]

He sat in his cell going over the information he'd been given to make a good show. He had no idea that the area would be locked down although tactically he thought such things in his mind. He was aware that it could go one of many ways. He could be meeting a holographic image of Shockwave, one designed to be ingratiating to his sensibilities. He could actually meet the beast himself. That was considered less likely. Or he could see a representative of Shockwave himself, another Decepticon or even an unknown human ally. Anything was possible.

They walked him to the shiny green and yellow jet waiting on the tarmac but they didn't tell him that it was Springer. The irony would be lost on him and he was high strung enough for now. A soldier medic would ride with him administering a mild sedative that he would explain away as a cold remedy reaction. He would be mentally clear but his nerves would be managed. Settling into his seat, he watched as the base taxied by and he disappeared into the fading blue sky for Colorado.

-0-At the house in Snowmass the night before [T-minus-1 day and counting]

They sat together playing poker as the clock ticked down to the moment when they would step out to park here and there, close enough to be ready and not close enough to be seen. Given the area and the amount of ostentatious wealth that was gathered here, no one would be too surprised to see such vehicles around the area. The soldiers lounged around, Epps, Graham and Lennox playing cards with a ruthless lust to win that was amusing to the bots. Ironhide after having downloaded every manual on the internet about how to play the game and all its versions was still losing. Even cheating didn't do him any good.

"You know, Ironhide," Will said with a grin. "You have the perfect poker face but you just don't have the bluff in ya."

"I have the bluff," Ironhide's brawny hologram said, tossing in his cards. "I've been bond to Ratchet for eons. I have the bluff."

They laughed as they tossed their cards back. Jazz who had won and was pulling in the winnings smiled. "You know who wears the pants in that bond," he said smirking at Ironhide who frowned.

"I didn't  ** carry ** ," Ironhide said defensively. "No matter how hard Ratchet worked it I didn't carry in the end."

"Oh, I don't know," Jazz said, picking up his cards and looking them over. "Every time I see ya, you have that sparkling' of yours on your arm."

Everyone chuckled as Epps looked at Ironhide. "He's one cute little bug," he said. "When's the next one?"

Ironhide looked at him, the expression on his humanoid face eerily familiar. "When Ratchet tells me."

The laughter filled the house as they played on with the clock ticking down. When it was late, they called it and everyone settled down to pull a few z's, waiting for the word to go.

-0-Shockwave, the night before [T minus 1 day and counting]

He sat in the garage, the mansion affording seven cars worth of space in it. Before him was a large crate and inside were two mini-cons. He had them rewired, ready to power link with his frame to give him what he needed; energy enough to formulate an infallible holographic image for the humans to meet. The two mini-cons had been captured in combat and were redesigned to link with him. They would slave their energy to his and he would be charged with phenomenal amounts of power to use as he wished.

Sitting on a tech crate and reflecting on the situation to come, he wondered where Prime was at that moment. Diego Garcia was far away from where he was, a mere tiny dot in the vast blue ocean. Prime's defenses were very good but he had still gotten through, flying in over the pole during an especially bright display of auroras. It had been easy, he thought, as he calculated his positions. Too easy.

-0-Ops Center, two nights before [T-minus-2 days and counting]

Prowl watched as the ship flew into the Earth's magnetic north. Auroras were in full bloom in the frigid air over the pole. It would be the most logical place to try to come through, so he had positioned extra satellite time in that direction. Shockwave didn't fail him and he smiled slightly, comming Optimus who was driving down I-70 from Denver to Lakewood. Prime, acknowledging, continued onward, ever more cognizant of the danger presented thus far. The most dangerous known living Decepticon was on the Earth.

-0-At the Aspen Airport, that morning [D-Day]

Springer taxied over to the area where VIP jets were parked and took his place in the line up. Nearby, sitting with his motor purring, Jazz waited nearby in alt mode. It was for now a silver Porsche 911 Turbo reflecting his impeccable tastes. He was to take Nast to his own house. From there Nast would drive in one of his own trucks to the meeting.

The plane pulled to a stop as the door opened and the steps lowered. For a moment, no one came and then Nast appeared, impeccably dressed and pale. He walked from the plane with his soldier medic escort toward him, then paused for all intents and purposes by a beautiful Porsche. Anyone would might know Nash wouldn't be surprised at the car. He was mad about expensive cars. Jazz's hologram greeting them. The medic opened the door and pushed Nast toward the seat, the sullen silent figure sitting as the door closed.

Jazz nodded to the medic then entered the car, closing his door to pull out in the light traffic. They drove out of the airport and down the street heading for Snowmass Village and Nast's house. For a while no one talked, then Nast looked at Jazz. "Which one are you?"

"Jazz," he replied keeping his visor covered optics on the road. He was handsome, casually dressed and elegant, everything Nast wanted to be and would never achieve.

"What now?"

"We take you to your house and you wait until its time to go. Then you drive your truck to the house. You'll arrive just behind Galloway, Daniels and Weaver. They're already here, stayin' in Aspen at hotels."

"And this Shockwave? Is he here too?"

Jazz nodded. "He's here."

Nast closed his eyes and leaned his head back, resting it against the head rest. A few brief hours, that's all it was supposed to be, then he would go back to Diego Garcia and cower in the brig. All he had to do was nod and say yes. All he had to do was agree. Then they would leave. He could flee.

The trip to his house was short but he felt that the drive would never end. When he entered his house, passing through big unfriendly men gathered there, he would go to the downstairs bathroom and throw up.

-0-On their way [T-minus-1 day and counting]

They sat on the private plane together, Daniels, Galloway and Weaver. They had joined up in Virginia entering a plane donated by a campaign contributor, a businessman who wanted to be 'good friends' with Galloway. They sat in luxury and enjoyed the perk, feeling like kings. Drinks and light snacks of great quality were served by the cabin attendants who retired to the front of the plane.

"This is the life," Galloway said with a grin as he sipped his champagne. "I could get used to this. Have you ever been on Air Force One?" he asked as he glanced at Weaver.

"No, but someday when you or I are president, I intend to make use of the facilities," Beau Weaver said.

Jase Daniels sat sipping his drink as he watched the clouds out the window. He would listen and let them talk but in his mind, he was going to be president before any of them.

When the plane landed in Aspen they deplaned with all the panache of gods. A limousine was waiting so they entered, going to their hotels to check in. They would eat and drink, enjoying the hospitality of Aspen, getting their pictures taken with movers and shakers. It would be a perfect evening before they met up with High Flyer, the man they hoped would change their lives forever.

Little did they know how well their wish would come true.

-0-At the House of Shockwave [D-Day}

He sat in the corner of the garage plugged into the surveillance system he had rigged throughout the house. He would hear everything and feed to his holographic image all the right things to say. The humans wanted power and wealth. He had the fortune to grant that power and doing so would put them into his debt. He would manipulate them into positions of authority and they would bend to his will.

A pair of Decepticons were sitting by the box waiting for their lord to tell them what he needed. They were his entire crew. He didn't need more so secure was he that this would go easily and well. The humans were insects. The Autobots weren't fools but he was certain that his tracks were covered. He had ordered the death of the informant the moment his usefulness was over. He could do that again with anyone getting in the way. No tracks, no trail.

Intel-Martin would be receiving the weapon he had transferred to an intermediary. That would tie him and his firm to Shockwave. Starscream's investment in Nast's companies would also benefit him. The politician wannabe and the bureaucrat would be easier to ensnare. All it would take is money. He had more of it than he could ever use and he would make sure that they got what they wanted. Nothing bound the insects closer together than the reciprocity thread.

The time passed and he waited, patience was a virtue he had earned the hard way. Megatron trusted him over all others and even as he carried on the will of his master, he wondered where he was. Keeping the lid on a newly arising Cybertron and the fires over the empire had taxed him. He wanted this problem, the issue of the Prime settled. Getting them kicked off Earth would be a start. Figuring out a way to destroy the colony on the fourth planet would be next.

He would find a way. That was who he was. He turned and nodded to his soldiers and they arose, pulling the lid off the box. Reaching inside, they pulled out two mini-cons, both of them prisoner inside. They forced them to transform into the small vehicles that they ordinarily favored. Handing them one by one to Shockwave, he held them at power link points and they attached against their will, their programming and circuitry long since beyond their control. They snapped into place and the resulting power surge was enormous, a halo of light suffusing Shockwave. He off lined his optics as the initial charge flared then opened them, nodding to the pair who stepped to the doorway, taking their places once more.

Shockwave, feeling the surge of more energy than even Optimus Prime could overcome leaned back and concentrated on his holographic image. It flared before him, a tall and very cold looking human male. He wore incredibly expensive and tailored clothing, his hair was gray and combed back. A manicured hand straightened his tie as Shockwave worked once more through the file of human male mannerisms once more.

He then had the hologram turn slowly, comparing the image against the prototype he had built over a serious of orns to create an image unlike any most mechs had ever seen. It was real, solid, had warm skin and was capable of speech that was as perfect as any other human would have. He could sit and stand, hold things and hold things out. It was perfect and the energy surge of his slave mini-cons would make sure that it would hold up for as long as he needed it, at the quality he needed until he derezzed it.

He turned the holographic image to walk to the door then paused it, making it turn around. He made a simple change, one that slipped his processor then it walked to the door and out into the house beyond. Shockwave checked and rechecked his creation and made a note to be more careful. The minute change he had made was a telling one. He had changed the image's optics color from red to blue.

-0-At Nast's House [T-minus-30 minutes]

They had left one by one, the Autobots and their soldiers driving away, some in the early morning before light and others up to the last few minutes. They were scattered here and there taking station to wait. Overhead, the sky was cloudy, the air cold as the temperature dropped to create an ice fog.

A limousine drove down the street, an incongruous sight, and turned into the driveway of the mansion house. Three men stepped out and the limousine drove away. They stood together talking a moment, then turned to watch as Nast in his pickup truck drove in too. He parked and walked to the three to shake hands. They turned together and walked to the door, waiting together after knocking. The door opened and they walked inside as it closed behind them.

Ironhide, parked in a driveway down the street watched them and pinged Prime. Optimus, parked in a parking lot nearby waited. He was incongruous too so he relied on the intel of his soldiers. Nast and the others were inside. They were inside with Shockwave. All bets were off now so they waited and listened. The fog grew thicker.

-0-TBC c2010 (12)  ** edited 8-30-17 **

Short one tonight. Sorry. Anyone wanting to know more about Decepticon enslavement of mini-cons, read Transformers: Armada.

Goodnight and take care. -me

  
  


Chapter 134

  
  


-0-On the steps of The Fortress of Autobot City, Mars

Sideswipe  who was standing with the rest looked at the mood of the crowd and the fact that Starscream was alone. He looked at Kup and Kup looked at him with a nod. Then as one, the two stepped over Gears who was struggling to rise again and walked to Starscream, turning back to join him, one on each side. 

They stared at each other, all three of them, then Kup laughed loudly.  **"** ****Come on ya fraggers! Come and get some if you got the bearings** ** **!"**

And they did.

-0-Nearby

Ultra Magnus sat in his office going over requisition lists for the new housing. They were building extra units extra quickly for the refugees that were due in communications range in four orns. He was going to be flooded. As he sat working in the quiet of the evening, he heard loud voices and arose to walk to his door to look out.

Beyond him in the spotlights of the outdoor courtyard he could see a brouhaha happening. Staring dumbly for a moment, watching as civilians and other Autobots raced past him to see what the matter was, he tossed his datapad on his desk. Then he hurried out to the fracas in the front yard.

-0-Far away

Bluestreak and Sunstreaker lay together touching each other, kissing softly. They’d left the Med Bay after playing with and holding Orion, himself a remarkably calm and friendly little sparkling. Lying together with their arms around each other, they began to drift into a light recharge. Then it came to them. There was a brouhaha happening at the other end of their triangle and they both sat up at the same time.

-0-Nearby

Mini-cons flew here and there, blows were exchanged by Autobots of the same size and stature. A Seeker with his back to a Wrecker dispatched all comers, his strength and speed overcoming their inebriation and blind rage. Round and round they turned in a tight circle, Kup and Starscream tossing back all comers. Sideswipe who was rotating around them, the wild card to their unity took out the wild hare, the gyrating rogue who charged them in their blind spots.

-0-Far away

They concentrated on the brouhaha, feeling blows and sensing great exhilaration.

Sideswipe was in a brawl.

They could feel his speed, exertion and glee.

Sunstreaker who was instantly pissed at being left out encouraged his brother sending him support, strength and a hissy fit because of his exclusion.

Bluestreak on the other hand was aghast.

-0-Nearby

Ultra Magnus reached the door and waded out into the churning mass. All around him, blows were landed as cries and growls of rage echoed off the stone walls of The Fortress. Civilians lined every corner of the courtyard watching and cheering on their favorites, some with looks of horror on their faces and others that of glee.

An inordinate number were actually cheering on Starscream.

-0-Far away

They paced in their quarters listening to Sideswipe's exertions and his unholy glee. It was still going on but then they caught the impression that Magnus was coming. The tide was turning. In whose favor, they both didn't know.

-0-Nearby

He stood in the middle, gripping mechs then tossing them aside. He shouted but no one listened and as he turned around he was slammed. Gears, tossed by someone landed against his face with a resounding clang. Ultra Magnus stilled for a moment, his face caught in a full body slam by a hard headed, profusely swearing mini-con, then fell backward to land on a pile of Autobots that had turned on each other in their inebriation. He landed with a loud thud halting the melee for a moment. Clearer heads began to step back but the hot heads among them didn't. A whole passel of mini-cons began to caterwaul, daring anyone to take them on one at a time or all at once.

Kup who was tired of the whole thing and feeling it was unseemly that Magnus should be laid out cold on the ground kicked Gears in the chassis sending him flying over the supine figure of their city manager and into a flock of civilians who began to run screaming toward either side. Gears hit the wall and slid to the sandy ground upside down, lying in a heap out cold.

The other mini-bots looking at Kup with astonishment turned to each other,  then looked around. All over the courtyard bots lay or sat, injuries were everywhere and all of them were thrashed. 

Kup who was standing with Sideswipe, himself teetering with injuries, turned to Starscream. Then he looked back around. " ** Who else among you fraggin' slaggers wants a piece of us ** ?"

No one spoke up as all of them either sat or swayed. The fracas was over.

Then Ultra Magnus sat up.

That was when the fun  ** really ** began.

-0-On the tarmac at Diego Garcia

Ratchet who was swearing like a drunken sailor walked toward Cosmos with a field kit and a sparkling. Bluestreak and Sunstreaker caught up with him and took both into their arms, bum rushing Ratchet into the shuttle. The door shut before anyone could raise objections, thus, all four found themselves on their way to Autobot City.

-0-Far away

The walking wounded stood in the courtyard at attention.

More or less.

The more serious cases lay on the steps getting general triage by First Aid and the field medics as they waited for The Hatchet to arrive and make crooked things straight.

Ultra Magnus, his nose structure dented from Gears's chassis landing on it at top speed wiped energon that was leaking from it with a table cloth borrowed from the rec room.

Livid would be a small word.

Aggravation is only a symptom of the malaise that infected his processor.

As he paced the endless rows of bent, broken and leaking soldiers standing as straight and erect as their various injuries allowed, he considered the breach in discipline.

The breach in decorum.

The lack of courtesy and dignity from a professional army.

The idea that the civilians could see such a thing.

The idea that the refugees, themselves no slouches at witnessing and experiencing brutal fracas would have to see it in this place of safety and solicitude fried his ball bearings.

The idea that they would  ****DO THIS #% & THING ON HIS WATCH** ** **!**

****The IDEA THAT A FRAGGIN' SEEKER WOULD SEE THEM BRAWLING LIKE FRAGGIN' GLITCH HEADS** ** **! …** ****WEEEELLLLL** ** … he would  ****SEE** ** about that.

As he paced, looking at them one by one as he passed, he considered what sort of punishment(s) would fit the crime(s). It would have to be adequate to transmit his professional disgust without being so dramatic that it would require two trips to The Hatchet and not the one most of them would need. He then paused before an unrepentant Seeker. In his direct line of sight, he looked at Starscream sitting on a step watching him pace with a smirk on his face. Magnus walked toward him. "I expected better from you, Starscream. You gave your word."

"I did, Magnus. I kept it."

"Brawling in the courtyard is keeping your word?"

"When a  ** fraggin' mini-con ** pulls hard enough on my wings to tear one I'm obligated to bat their aft into the next dimension." He leaned forward to show his tearing wound which was leaking energon. "Your drunken mini-con there," he said pointing at Gears who was standing as straight as he could considering a faint impression of Magnus's nose graced his chassis, "pulled them. Then he started this whole slag off and frankly, if you want to hang his sorry aft I will personally volunteer to hold the rope." He looked at Magnus with a smirk. "If I wanted to I could have killed him. Be lucky you have him back, Magnus. And I think the likeness of your face on his chassis is rather good, don't you?"

A snicker filtered through the crowd and was ended with a withering stare as Magnus turned around. Beyond them, the sound of Cosmos returning could be heard and after a bit the sound of Ratchet swearing could be heard also. Walking … or rather stomping inside, he paused in astonishment as he looked at row after row of broken and bent Autobots. On the steps grinning like a(n ex)Decepticon Seeker, Starscream watched the show.

"What the  ****FRAG** ** **!** ****WHAT THE FRAGGING** ** ****HELL HAPPENED HERE!?** ** **!"** Ratchet with servos on hip assemblies walked through the lines staring open mouthed at the Autobots standing there, all of  ** them  ** looking away, all of them afraid to catch Ratchet's optics and thereby draw even more wrathful attention than they knew was coming. 

Bluestreak who holding a solemn looking sparkling and Sunstreaker holding his medic bag and his overpowering urge to laugh out loud waited near the gate almost as if afraid to enter.

Ratchet walked to Magnus looking at him with wide optics.  ** " ** ****MAGNUS** ** **!** ****WHAT THE SLAG HAPPENED TO YOUR NOSE** ** **?"**

"We had an incident," Magnus began.

Ratchet looked around, then back at Magnus, glancing sideways  as he did at a smirking Starscream. "What the  ****FRAG** ** happened here?"

And Ultra Magnus told him.

-0-A little bit later

"I have to tell you this is the  ** stupidest ** fraggin' stunt I've had to put back together for vorns. Where the  ** frag ** were the adults?"

Ratchet worked his way through lunkheads passing one after another out the door while taking one after the other in. Sitting in an easy chair, Bluestreak held his recharging infant who finally kicked off about the fifteenth broken Autobot in.

Sunstreaker who was pressed into triage enjoyed himself, jerking up none too gently every mini-con he could reach for Ratchet's ministrations.

Gears who was listing against the wall looked at him with a cracked optic.

Sunstreaker who knew how much Ratchet  ****HATED** ** to repair optics cracked under stupid circumstances waited nearby. He would bring them forward and tell Ratchet what the major injuries were. He waited, biding his time, then Ratchet called out with his dulcet tones: " ** Who the  ** ****FRAG IS NEXT** ** ?"

Sunstreaker walked to Gears and grabbed him by the scruff of the neck hoisting him fifteen feet off the ground, then brought his carcass to Ratchet. He dumped him on the and began: "He has dents in his chassis from fragging Magnus' nose. He has a cracked optic from walking into Starscream's fist like a dumb aft and he's stupid."

Gears glared at Sunstreaker with his broken optic seeing about twenty-seven Sunstreakers through all the breakage. "At least ****I'M**** not sparked!"

Sunstreaker punched his face and Gears fell over. "He has a dent in his fragging chassis and  ****TWO** ** broken optics."

Ratchet stared at Sunstreaker for a moment. "You ** slagger ** . I'll let this one go but if you do that to another dumb aft I will personally punt your sorry carcass into the eleventh dimension."

Sunstreaker grinned with a nod. Ratchet grinned back and shook his head. Turning to the stuperous lump on the med berth, he glared at Gears who was trying to sit up with two broken optics and a great impression of the city manager's face on his chassis.

"Dumb aft," Ratchet muttered before gripping both of Gears optics to twist them out of their sockets. Ratchet was sure that Gear's scream could be heard all the way to Earth but Sunstreaker was too busy laughing to care.

-0-At the Seeker's Barracks

Starscream wandered in with a great tale of great deeds. The others hearing the fracas but not going for obvious reasons landed on him.  **"** ****STARSCREAM! WHERE THE FRAG WERE YOU! WE COULDN'T FIND YOU** ** **!"**

He grinned at them and let them fuss. Sitting down on a comfy couch, showing them his scuffed knuckles and patched wing, he laughed as he described the fun.

They didn't laugh. They were rightly pissed and when it was all said they made sure he knew it.

Thundercracker paced and paced looking at his trine mate with outrage. "You stay  ** away ** from those barbarians. Especially the little short ones. They need a beating but  ** you're ** not to do it.  ** Do you hear us, Starscream ** ?"

Starscream smirked as he leaned back folding his arms over his chassis. "No harm, no foul."

"This time," Skywarp said shaking his head. "But next time … you'll lose the hatchlings."

Starscream thought a moment then patted his chassis. "Nothing will happen to them. They are my magnum opus."

The night spun by and the crowds in Med Bay thinned as everyone crawled off to their berths until the ax fell. Ratchet who stretched out on a med berth tucked his sparkling against his side. Lying on another, Sideswipe and Bluestreak cuddled, falling into recharge together. Sitting in a soft chair next to them, Sunstreaker sat in comfort staring at all of them. He looked around himself as he settled in. "What a zoo," he whispered with a smile before falling into recharge. "What a slaggin' zoo."

Chapter 135

  
  


  
  


0=At the home of Shockwave

They entered, the four walking past a tall, cold looking figure of a man. The house was magnificent with a roaring fire in a stone fireplace dominating the room. The furnishings around it were sumptuous and expensive. They paused by it, staring into the flames then turned to face each other, silently appraising the other.

Their host was dressed in very expensive tailored clothing, a suit and tie oddly enough. Expensive handmade shoes adorned his feet and his hands showed the marks of manicures and light labor. He gestured them to come to the fire and they did, sitting to face him as he stood before them, assuming the domination position. He smiled, a not altogether convincing thing. "I am High Flyer," he said in a heavily accented voice.

They looked at him a moment in silence, then Galloway arose to walk toward him with his hand out.

Shockwave took it and they shook, each showing a firm grip.

"I'm Theodore Galloway but most people call me Ted." He introduced everyone present. "This is Senator Beau Weaver of Texas, Jason Daniels, who carries the brief for the State Department for the N.E.S.T. Program and the Autobot Treaties and Bill Nast who owns and operates Intel-Martin Corporation and its subsidiaries."

Shockwave stepped forward to shake hands, giving a slight old world style bow of his head as he did so. He stepped back to regard them as Galloway sat once more. "My actual name is Onda de Choque. But you may call me Ondo."

"We’re very glad to meet you at last, Ondo. You’ve been very helpful to us in our goals in the past," Weaver said leaning back to make himself more comfortable. "We’re all in positions to do a lot of good for our country and our various interests. This meet up is a godsend with the way things are going lately."

Shockwave nodded then gestured toward a beautifully laden table nearby a rather amazing wet bar. "May I offer you some refreshment before we get down to business? I know you are busy men and I am fielding a very full schedule myself."

They rose to help themselves to exquisite food and extremely good and some rare vintage wines. He stood with them deferring anything for himself as he played the good host and helped his guests. When they settled once more, Daniels leaned forward yo venture his position and that of his family. "Ondo, I think we all have the same goals here. We want to see the Autobots off the Earth. We want to see an end to the treaties, the security arrangements and the disbanding of N.E.S.T."

Shockwave, relaxing elegantly in a leather chair beside the fire nodded. "Do continue."

Daniels becoming emboldened leaned back. "All of us are either in positions of influence or aiming for them. My father and grandfather are important men. Majority Leader of the Senate has a lot of power and influence both inside and outside of government. My family business is very influential and powerful with ties everywhere. My family and I have discussed the many points of mutual interest all of us here share and they support me, my father and grandfather both."

Shockwave nodded. "That is good to know. Then they are willing to use their positions of influence to further the goals and aims of our little group?"

Daniels nodded. "They are."

"The Majority Leader and I have discussed this in detail and that’s why I am holding hearings shortly with that Autobot Ambassador," Weaver interjected. "We agree that we have to take them down and if it means getting argumentative and combative we’re prepared to do so."

"What we need, and all politicians here do, is funding," Galloway said. "Our campaigns are tremendously expensive and having unlimited funding through corporations thanks to the recent Supreme Court decision we can now spend large cash amounts through organizations without donation limits or disclosure." He leaned forward. "If I get elected, then there will be three Senators that are amenable to you and your goals, myself, Beau of course," he said nodding to Weaver, "and Senate Majority Leader Daniels."

"This would be extremely helpful and I will be forthcoming to your campaigns, I assure you," Shockwave said. "I am concerned about public opinion. It appears that your opinion of the Autobots is a minority one. The public is very much enamored of them."

"Then we’ll take them down. We can use information we’ve acquired to get more. We have a mole in N.E.S.T. at Diego Garcia and he’s been very active," Galloway said.

"I don't want to pry but it appears to me, Ondo, that the only way you could be as well informed as you appear to be is if you have contact with the Decepticons. I hope I'm not out of line suggesting this," Daniels said venturing his suggestion.

Shockwave looked at him, his cold blue eyes pause making. "I won't bore you with details but you are correct in your assumptions. They trust me and I trust them."

"We would like to be trusted, too," Galloway said, measuring de Choque appraisingly. "We don't subscribe to the idea that they’re here to do us harm. They’re here to remove the Autobot threat from their midst. Once the Autobots leave we’re of no consequence to them."

Shockwave considered the foolishness being displayed before him but nodded anyway. "You have a very astute mind, Mr. Galloway."

Galloway leaned back pleased with himself.

Nast who was sitting next to him could only stare at Onda de Choque. He was aware that the creature before him was a very intricate holographic image and that somewhere, probably inside the house was the demon, Shockwave. He didn't speak, merely giving the good impression of listening and appraising in a believing sort of way what was being discussed.

Shockwave traded comments then turned to Nast. "Mr. Nast, you will be receiving a shipment of a special gift meant just for you from me."

Nast, jolting slightly nodded. "Thank you, Ondo. The Cybertronian weapon passed shortly ago, I remember. I'm sorry. I have a cold and the medication I take has made me a bit on the sleepy side."

Shockwave nodded. "Understood."

For a moment there was a pause in the flow and then the conversation began again. They discussed the political scene in America and the world, the economic instability that was plaguing everyone and the opportunities therein to profit personally as well as other ideas shared between individuals without souls.

Then Shockwave rose with the others following. "I must conclude our little visit for now. I have a few things that demand my time. However, I would like to meet again in one month."

"Again?" Galloway asked.

"Yes," Shockwave said. "I would like to discuss a number of things that I would like to do in the realm of energy and policy. I think it would be nice of you to suggest a few of your more … innovative friends in places of influence, perhaps even the Majority Leader himself to come and meet. I would be honored to host such distinguished and forward thinking individuals. We can meet and talk together, to make plans and strategies for our purposes."

"We can do that," Weaver said breezily. "I could bring a few of my fellow Senators and some key Congressmen as well."

"I would like that," Daniels said. "I will inform my father and grandfather to keep a date open when you let us know."

Nast nodded as he stood quietly with his hands in his pockets.

Shockwave stepped forward to shake their hands, then walked to the door to let them out. They exited the house and the door closed.

Nast without another word walked to his truck. They called to him and he waited as the others caught up.

"What's the matter, Bill?" Weaver asked.

"I think I'm going to vomit," he said, his pale shaking expression indicative of his remarks.

"Well, you better go then," Weaver said. The others nodded. "Next time try and not be ill."

Nast climbed aboard, backed out and left.

The others stood on the street a while and then the limousine was back. They boarded and drove off, unaware that they were on the radar of Autobot and Decepticon alike.

=0=Jazz, Prime and Fulton

"This is a hard call," Prime said as his voice came through the radio. "Nail him now and get him or get him the next time he comes and a lot of other people, too?"

Fulton was silent, thinking it through with all its possibilities.

Jazz was silent as well.

"It could bag them all next time. The hearings will be coming up and then anything that the three of them do between times will also be evidence of conspiracy. We could get him when he comes back," Fulton mused.

"Jazz?" Prime asked.

"I want him dead, Optimus," Jazz said. "But I also want the others. The way the justice system works here, rich people wiggling away from their crimes … it almost cries out to follow Shockwave."

Prime was silent a moment. "What if he does not come back and we miss our chance now to kill or take him alive?"

"What if he shoots it out? There’s a lot of civilians here. If we let him go maybe we can influence the location next time," Jazz said. "No matter which way you go, you’ll get criticism."

"I agree," Prime said. "Colonel, opinion?"

"I like his overconfidence. He came here once and 'bested' the system. I’d like to see what he wants the next time and I’d love to see these people act on their remarks. I don't want them any wiggle room when the net drops."

It was silent a moment, then Prime decided. "We let him leave." He almost sighed over the link. "Watch him, Jazz, all the way out of here. I will have Prowl track him off world and maybe we can have a notion of where he is going."

"On it, Optimus," Jazz said.

It was silent a moment, then Fulton patted the dashboard. "He’ll be back. You know he will. Then we take him. We take him and all of them."

Prime considered that  then  agreed. "It will be a good day."

"The best."

=0=At Nast's house

He drove in and parked, then hopped out to run inside. Passing the two soldiers who were waiting for him, he ran into the bathroom to vomit. He heaved and heaved, then sagged to the floor to lean against the wall with his eyes closed. They stood at the door, neither feeling sympathy and listened on their ear pieces to the field team regrouping.

=0=Ops Center, Autobot Embassy, Diego Garcia

Prowl got the word and concurred with Prime, estimating that the likelihood of Shockwave returning was in the high nineties. The more evidence of conspiracy they had the better. Now the players were free to act on their discussion items and when the lid was dropped on them they would have no defense whatsoever. Having more conspirators meet meant digging out and getting all the tentacles of this organization which was building and spreading out from the main players.

As he stood at the comm station discussing the situation in Colorado with Prime, Prowl didn't tell him about the riot at Autobot City. He was still reeling over that and since it was Ultra Magnus' responsibility, he held it from Prime until he could come back and face him.

Dispatching Ratchet the night before had been shocking, that the situation needed him was hard to take. He was irritated with the garrison, with Ultra Magnus and with the extra worries Prime would have to shoulder because of it. There was just too much to do now to be stupid. He ordered Magnus to make an example of the instigators and to make the others work for their redemption.

Magnus who was mortified and angry agreed in his button down way and by dawn's light Gears had joined Cliffjumper in the brig for an extended holiday. The other soldiers during their off duty time were digging trenches for new habitat extensions. It would be a long, long decaorn for all concerned.

=0=Med Bay, Autobot City, Mars

Ratchet finished tidying up, taking the inordinate amount of broken and bent parts removed from Autobot knot helms and put them into the recycle medical waste bin in the back of the facility. Sunstreaker, his Mech Friday was helping and Bluestreak was playing with Orion. They’d spent the night on the med berths with Sideswipe being hauled off early to go and dig. The rec room was empty when they arrived for breakfast, mostly civilians and the few who hadn’t partaken in the melee the night before.

"This place was wild last night," Bluestreak said. "I've seen drunken brawls on Cybertron and few other places but nothing like that."

"That was pretty awesome," Sunstreaker said. "I wish I had been there."

"You would be digging holes, Sunny," Bluestreak said with a grin. "Poor Sideswipe."

"Lucky-to-be-free-of-the-brig-Sidewipe you mean," Ratchet said tucking his feeding cable back into his wrist interface compartment. He wiped Orion's little face. He was all arms flapping and his pug nose wrinkling in distaste. Ratchet smiled at him then held him up to plant a big kiss on his little lips. "Aren't you just the perfect little mech this morning?" he cooed.

Bluestreak smiled. "He was so good last night," he said reaching over to take the sparkling into his arms.

Orion beat on Bluestreak with his rattle, chirping and bouncing as he did.

"He sure is talking a lot. Spirit might take lessons," Bluestreak said.

"Maybe he can be around Orion a little. It might help him learn to talk," Ratchet said.

Bluestreak nodded. "That would be nice."

They sat chatting amiably, then Ratchet remembered something. "I'll be right back." He rose and Orion fussed, reaching out for his old pa. Ratchet, melting on the spot held out his arms and took him. "I'll be right back. You two might start thinking about a protoform. Less than four decaorns now."

Sunny and Bluestreak nodded, watching as Ratchet walked to the doors and out into the courtyard.

"Ratchet rules," Bluestreak said quietly.

Sunstreaker nodded silently.

Ratchet and Orion walked around the corner, spotting their destination then headed for it. They paused before the bench out front. Sitting down to arrange the sparkling on his lap, Ratchet waited. For a moment they enjoyed the sunshine alone, then Starscream walked out to sit on the bench, spreading his wings behind him.

"I see you have a sparkling," Starscream said eyeing the infant critically.

The infant, glancing at him for a moment returned to his fist and his peds, waving his rattle as he tried to put both in his mouth. "Reminds me of Ironhide."

"Its my sparkling and Ironhide is the other father."

"No wonder." Starscream leaned back to off line his optics as he soaked up the sunshine as well.

"When were you going to tell me, Starscream?" Ratchet asked.

"Eventually," he said looking at the medico with one optic. "If the moment presented itself."

"A riot is the right moment? You could have injured them last night."

"It wasn't my intention nor my fault that the Autobots wanted to beat my aft," Starscream said quietly. "I doubt that it would have made a difference if they had known. They still would have attacked." It was silent a moment. "Odd, that. Kup has tried to kill me many times and the red twin, he has climbed onto my back in flight more times than I like to remember. They came to my rescue."

"They did," Ratchet said glancing over at Starscream. "Now so am I." He reached into subspace to pull up a scanner. Running it over the Seeker, he checked and correlated the data. "You have three hatchlings and they’ll be due for transfer in a week."

"I was aware of that," Starscream said evenly.

"Do you have an incubator pod?" Ratchet asked.

"Not yet," Starscream replied.

"Then I’ll have Perceptor and Wheeljack make one. Will you have them transfer here or on Earth?"

"Here, but of course," Starscream said looking at Ratchet with a slight frown. "The other rock is crawling with insects."

Ratchet smiled. "Still the same old sourpuss aren't you."

"Some things never change," Starscream said smiling to himself. Then he patted his chassis. "And some things do."

Ratchet grinned back.

(According to English-Portuguese dictionaries, Onda de Choque is Portuguese for Shockwave.)

Chapter 136

=0=At the house in Snowmass

They watched as the Decepticons in the house broke down their set up, boxing the mini-cons to stow them in a truck. The truck took off with that and a couple of other things and was followed by two sedans and a large rugged Ram Charger. They passed Jazz, himself parked behind a stand of trees in someone's driveway. Heading out, he radioed ahead that Shockwave was on his way.

They drove out of Snowmass unaware that a series of Autobots were following them and when they got to Glenwood Springs they turned off to pulled up before Thunder River Self Storage on County Road. Opening a large storage chamber, they off loaded the crate and all their other equipment, locking it then taking off in the gathering gloom.

Jazz directed Ironhide, Perceptor and Bumblebee to check it out and find out what they were storing inside. Smokescreen, Trailbreaker and Wheeljack would go with him and maintain surveillance. Prime and Fulton would follow them at a distance to prevent the Decepticons from knowing of their presence by spotting his distinctive format.

It was dark when they reached Country Road 154 and drove slowly past Nelson's Auto Body. No one was around so they rolled past to park in the darkness behind the facility before transforming.

Perceptor who was glancing around found the area quiet and lifeless. He walked to the fence and scanned it. "There are security features, Ironhide," he said in his cultured voice. "I will take them out of the equation." He subspaced a box with a laser light which he flashed at the fence. It blinked red and the system was down.

Boosting Bumblebee over the fence, they clambered over as well to hurry to the long building, pausing to let the lights of a car going down County Road to Spring Valley Road pass them by. When it was dark they moved onward with Perceptor scanning for Cybertronian signatures. The last unit in the facility alerted so they focused their attentions on getting inside.

It was tall and a steel door blocked their access. A simple welding tool took the lock away so they slid it up to go inside and closed it behind them. Standing in a large room with a high ceiling, Bumblebee turned on his headlights. They looked at several boxes, one of them rather large.

Perceptor scanned them then turned to Ironhide alarmed. "There are two mini-cons inside that big box and they aren't in very good shape."

Ironhide commed Prime. :Ironhide to Prime:

:Prime here:

:Prime, we found the facility and in the big box are two mini-cons. I think they used them to power link. Perceptor says they aren't in a good way."

It was silent a moment then Prime spoke again. :Get them out of there. Bring them with us. Catalog the contents of the rest of the room but bring them along. We cannot leave them:

:Acknowledged: Ironhide looked at them with doubt and anger on his face. "We have to bring them. It gripes me that this could alert that slagger but we can't leave them."

Bumblebee moved to the box to carefully wrench the lid off. Lifting it, he peered down to look at the two of mini-cons with a sick expression.

Ironhide moved to the box and gently pushed Bumblebee aside. Reaching down inside, he carefully pulled up a small vehicle, blue and white in color. Setting it on the ground he pulled up another, an all white mini car. Holding it, he watched as Perceptor scanned the first one finding faint signs of life. He looked up with a frown. "We have to get them to Ratchet as soon as we can."

Ironhide nodded then glanced at Bumblebee. "Put the lid back on. We have to scan the entire contents of this place, then get to some place where we can get an airlift. I'll call Springer."

:Ironhide to Springer:

:Springer here, Hide:

:We need you to pick up two casualties. Mini-cons used as power links:

:Frag. Where do you want me to come?:

:I'm sending you the coordinates. Do you have Nast yet?:

:He's driving up now:

:Can you take two minis?:

:I'll try. We can squeeze them in or I'll take them one at a time to Silverbolt:

:Good idea. We’ll bring them to the coordinates. Ironhide out: Turning to the others, he glanced around "You got it all, Perceptor?"

The red bot nodded as he stared at the mini-bot lying still on the floor, stuck in vehicle mode and barely hanging on. "We better hurry."

Checking that everything was in order they retraced their steps as Ironhide carried one mini-con and Perceptor and Bumblebee hoisting to carry the other. They transformed and with one mini-con strapped into Ironhide's bed and the other waiting in the darkness at the storage facility, Ironhide rolled out onto Country Road, crossed I-82 and drove up Old State Highway 82. It was a long slow drive down Country Road 109 until they reached Ironbridge Golf Club. Turning into a tip out, they off loaded Ironhide and watched as Springer settled down into the open space nearby without running lights.

Bumblebee helped Ironhide load the little silent mini-con as he also watched for trouble in the trees that lined that part of the road.

:Can you take another one, Springer?: Ironhide leaned in to ask over the comm, ignoring Nast who sat huddled in the corner next to the silent mini-con.

"No can do, Hide. I’ll jet this one and Nast to Silverbolt, then come back. I can take the other one directly to Diego. Can you hold the line here for about a few?:

:We’ll wait here for you: Ironhide replied.

Nast watched the big black demonic Autobot standing half in the door of the jet without moving a muscle. The Autobot wasn't looking at him as he stood in the doorway. The little car he had jammed inside was of a design he’d never seen before, something alien and sleek. It was banged up and silent, a strange and melancholy silent. He turned his head away and huddled in his comfortable seat, trying to remember when he wasn't living in a nightmare.

Ironhide stepped back and the door closed as Springer lifted off silently. He looked at Bee. "We have to get the other one and bring him and Perceptor here. He’ll be back for him."

Bumblebee nodded as the distress he felt over this was clear on his face. Transforming, the two drove back to the storage facility and repeated the process. By the time they were loaded and driving back Springer had reached Denver and Silverbolt.

N.E.S.T. soldiers took Nast on board. The soldiers procured equipment and finally removed the battered mini-con from Springer to secure it inside the hold of the jet. When he was free Springer lifted off and flashed through the night on his mission of mercy.

=0=On the road

The roads weren't very good but the state was out blading snow off of them. The caravan of Decepticons were pushing through heading toward Denver. Behind them, ever changing places and mixing up the surveillance was a number of concept, vintage and elite model vehicles. At the very end driving sedately followed a 1986 Peterbilt semi tractor truck. Colonel Fulton who was on the radio with Denver sat in the driver’s seat and relayed the news that one mini-con was placed on board and the other, one in worse shape was jetting to Diego with Springer.

Ratchet had been alerted and was waiting.

By the time they left Silverthorne it was snowing hard and visibility was almost nil. Using sensors, flying with instruments so to speak, they kept on the trail. The snow turned to slush and roads became nearly impossible. As they reached the halfway point to Denver from Silverthorne, a truck jackknifed as they spun sideways. Cars were taken out and piled up. Visibility dropped to nothing and they were cut off though the Decepticons managed to avoid the pile up as they disappeared into the night.

Jazz, edging around with an almost supernatural modus slid sideways into a berm. For a moment he sat there, then he transformed to move as swiftly as he could to get around the pile up, transforming once more to disappear as well. They came to a stop as Optimus finally caught up and as they sat together waiting until they could move without letting anyone know they were who they actually were, the Decepticons disappeared off their sensors.

It was frustrating as hell.

=0=Jazz

He crept along looking for tail lights but he didn't find them. They’d pulled off a roadside long enough to transform and fly below the radar toward the north. Giving up driving, not a long suit for Decepticons by any measure, they took their chances in the air. They made it to the far north and burst upward heading out in the flow of solar energy and the shimmering cover of the aurora borealis. They were gone as swiftly as they came but at no point in the defensive grid that surrounded the solar system were they off the radar at Autobot City or Diego Garcia.

=0=Silverbolt

Nast sat on his butt leaning against the wall. Armed soldiers dressed in civilian clothes sat with him. A dented and much abused mini-con was strapped down silently waiting for lift off. Silverbolt monitored it sending information to Ratchet who was walking to the tarmac in Diego Garcia to supervise the off loading of the one that Springer had brought to them. He was making his approach and would be there shortly.

All they had to do in Denver now was sit and wait for the other Autobots to return. Outside, the runways struggled to clear the snow and flights backed up as they were canceled due to the massive storm over the area. When the others finally came it would be much worse, closing the airport and all the others in the area. No one else would be flying for a couple of days. They, however would transform, load up and Silverbolt would rise up taking them into the dark storm filled skies and back toward the balmy climate of Diego Garcia. When they got there, Ratchet and Prowl would be waiting for them.

  
  


Chapter 137

  
  


=0=Diego Garcia about the same time

Ratchet supervised the off loading of the little con then they carried him inside toward Med Bay. Mechs moved out of the way as others followed, curious about the newcomer. Little information was known yet but he’d been in Shockwave's company so it wasn't good.

Ratchet looked at the small vehicle, scanning it to get baselines on its condition before attempting anything more. He noted that it had been rewired, adapted to be a power link to mechs more his and Prime's size. The little mech was small even for a mini-con and it was rumored that the village heading for Autobot City was of this make of mini-con, small, compact, micro even and highly prized.

He finally looked though a broken window to reach inside to manually moved the cog through its process until a small blue and white mech was lying on the berth. It was off line and looked the worse for wear. Reaching for his diagnostic scanner, he plugged it and himself into the small bot and began to formulate a list of injuries, a course of treatment and repair. Behind him, Sunstreaker waited.

Bluestreak stood nearby holding a recharging Orion.

Ratchet turned to Sunny. "We need volunteers."

Sunstreaker nodded then silently walked out the door and down to the rec room. He returned with several mechs who began to donate energon for the patient. Using theirs rather than stored energon for transfusions was easier, better and faster.

Sunstreaker watched as Ratchet showed him how to take the transfusions carried out that part of the process. While he did that, Ratchet began to open the little bot and strip out the alien additions while at the same time restoring and replacing parts that should have been there all along.

=0=Silverbolt and Diego

The big jet landed several hours later and the hold door dropped. N.E.S.T. personnel claimed Nast and walked him to the Army brig nearby at N.E.S.T. HQ.

Prime rolled out along with his team and then they waited as Trailbreaker and Smokescreen brought out the mini-con on a stretcher. Lennox and Epps along with Graham walked with the bots to the Embassy, then to the conference room for the post mission debrief. Entering the building himself, Prime paused with Prowl for an update as the others continued onward.

Ironhide followed the stretcher to Med Bay. Entering, it was quiet and almost serene.

Ratchet was standing before a screen watching as data from the first mini-con scrolled past.

Ironhide looked around and saw that they were the only ones in the room beside Trailbreaker, Smokescreen and the mini-con.

Ratchet directed them to put the mini-con on another berth and he nodded to Ironhide with a smile before turning to his patient. The two big mechs waited as Ratchet did the same diagnostic process on this patient as he did the other, then he turned to them. "We're good, Smokey and Trailbreaker. Thanks."

They nodded then began to leave, slapping Ironhide on the shoulder as they passed him. He walked to Ratchet patting him on the aft. "Hey."

"Hey," Ratchet said. He leaned in and they kissed. "You didn't take Shockwave out?"

"Hard call for Prime. He's coming back in a month and we expect to net the whole lot then."

"Good," Ratchet said. "Anyone who power links mini-cons without their consent deserves to be boiled in oil."

Ironhide nodded. "Where's spud?"

"Bluestreak and Sunny have him," Ratchet replied. "They helped me a lot the past few."

"That's nice," Ironhide said rubbing Ratchet's aft with his servo. "So is this."

Ratchet smirked as he glanced over his shoulder. “I have to get these two up so that they can be monitored by someone else. Then I think you and I have a date with the berth."

"'Facing after battle," Ironhide said. "Rule number one or two. I can't remember."

Ratchet grinned. "You missed the riot."

Ironhide looked at him with a puzzled expression. "What riot?"

"Pull up a chair, Ironhide. I have such a tale to tell."

Ironhide smiled as he pulled up a stool. Sitting by the berth, he listened as Ratchet told of the Battle of The Fortress Courtyard™ and the Last Stand of the Wrecker™. By the time he was done Ironhide was chuckling and shaking his head.

"I wonder when mechs will get it through their damned processors. You don't frag with Wreckers." Ironhide shook his helm.

"Kup's still got it," Ratchet said as he ripped out a lot of unnecessary wiring from the chassis of the mini-con before him. "I wonder how many helms would explode around here if mechs knew that Perceptor was a Wrecker, too, and a damned fine one?"

Ironhide snorted. "All of them."

=0=Bluestreak and Sunstreaker

They sat on the berth together with Orion lying on his tummy between them. He flapped his arms as he looked up at them, chirping and clicking away to beat the band. They smiled and patted him, kissing him on his helm as he grinned back.

=0=Prime and Prowl

They left Ops Center at last and walked to their quarters to enter and sit together on the couch. The little mechs were elsewhere, staying with their 'Uncles' as their fathers unwound. Only after a good facing and back rub did Prowl tell Prime about Autobot City and the Fabled Riot of 2010™. He took it well Prowl thought before he disappeared into Prime's arms once more.

=0=Hound and Trailbreaker

They sat in the rec room with Silverbow on Trailbreaker's lap, the three of them catching up together. Silverbow, holding her pink bear looked at her dads, watching them as they talked about the mission. She didn't understand any of it but it never entered her processor that she wasn't the safest, most loved femme in the galaxy. She leaned against her father and watched as outside the door birds flew in the blue sky and the sun shone on the tarmac. People walked here and there across the area going about their business on her adopted home world. The terrors of her past were fading and falling away as she sat and listened to the incomprehensible conversation around her.

She was content.

=0=Ironhide and Ratchet

They walked from Med Bay together entering their quarters to fall into each others arms. A 'face and a longer conversation made the bad things go away and as Ironhide held Ratchet, talking to him and feeling content he considered himself the luckiest mech in the world. The only thing better would be Orion cuddled up against them both. That would have to wait until later. For now, the two of them together was perfect.

=0=Shockwave

He reached the Nemesis to walk inside, the crew there looking at him with curiosity. He was different than Megatron and The Fallen. He didn't strike them nor did did he yell. He was emotionless and analytical. His coldness and cruel logic were deeply feared and they worked at a higher peak with him there than they ever did with Megatron. Megatron might kill you face-to-face because an emotional outburst overtook him but with Shockwave, you never saw the knife coming.

He walked to the command deck and moved to the sensor station. He would work there all night organizing his plans and his thoughts about what would come next. As he sat in silence, he once again wondered where Megatron was. It would be good to know he thought. Loose ends were dangerous.

Chapter 138

  
  


{ } denotes Cybertronian speech, NeoCybex

=0=Med Bay

Ratchet relieved the night medic and made the rounds. Both of his mini-con patients were awake and struggling with their freedom. He looked around noting their circumstances, then put in a call. :Ratchet to Bumblebee:

:Bumblebee:

:Bee, can you come and help me with the mini-cons? They’re really struggling here:

:On my way:

Ratchet looked at them, both of them watching him fearfully. He walked to the all white con. "You really need to relax. I have an Autobot mini-con coming to help you."

"You're no better than the Decepticons. You'll use us, too," he said.

"We saved you and risked the integrity of a mission to do it," Ratchet said. "We're attempting to rescue a fleeing mini-con village. Hardly the same don't you think?"

"You're tricking us," the blue and white mini-con said. "Tricking us."

"Wait until Bumblebee gets here. He’ll help you sort this out," Ratchet said turning to go.

"Bumblebee?"

Ratchet glanced back, regarding the mini-con for a moment. "Yes. Tall, yellow and black, handsome, sweet and fun. That Bumblebee."

"I  ** know ** him." The white and blue mini-con looked at Ratchet with an intense expression. "They call me Runaway."

Ratchet nodded. "I'm Ratchet, Chief Medical Officer of the Autobot Armed Forces. You’re safe here. The Prime is here and he personally ordered your rescue."

Runaway looked at him trying to believe him when Bumblebee walked through the door, Sam Witwicky right behind him. Ratchet moved aside to scoop up Sam, putting him on the usual cabinet where he could chat and watch without being stepped on.

"Hi, Ratchet. What's up?"

"Got some rescues," Ratchet said scanning Sam head to toe. "You appear to be at optimal levels of performance," he replied smirking as they played the game of Computer versus Squishy.

"My hard drive is still functional then?" he asked grinning at the big medic.

"Optimal ranges are go," Ratchet said turning to Bumblebee who had walked to Runaway and gripped his servo. "So, he says he knows you, Bee."

"He does," Bumblebee said looking at Ratchet with his lovely blue optics and his long black lashes "He’s from D10, a village near my own." Bee turned to Runaway. {What happened to your village? When we regrouped on Cybertron's moons we knew that you were being hunted by Megatron}

{Where **were** you guys?} Runaway asked. {We called to you. Leader 1 called to you}

{We heard and we tried to come but you were already gone and the village was destroyed} Bee glanced at the other bot. {Is he from D10, too?}

{No} Runaway said. {He's from D4. We were invaded and a few escaped but the rest of us, me and him included were captured. They retooled us. They enslaved us and made us work for them giving them power beyond what they could have on their own. We were captive for so long I don't even know what’s what anymore.} He shuddered as he stared at Bee.

{You’re on Earth, a planet where we’ve regrouped. We have allies, the humans. This is the place where the Allspark landed} Bee said.

Both of them jolted. {You **found** **it**? **The Allspark**?} Runaway said struggling to sit up.

Bee gently pressed him down patting his shoulder. {No. It was unmade when we killed Megatron}

{ You … he's  ****dead** ** ? } the other mini-con whispered.

{The Allspark transformed entering another to reclaim itself} Bee said to both. He glanced at Sam and held out his servo. Sam with a serious expression on his face stepped into it and sat. Bee held him up. {This is the Allspark transformed}

The two mini-cons looked at him disbelief in their faces. {This is an organic}

{This is our ally, Sam Witwicky. We’ve forged allegiances with his people and we’re fighting back. We have a colony on the fourth planet from here, Autobot City. Refugees are coming there including the mini-con village escaping this way with Autobots. We have a home and safety. We have sparklings being born. The Seekers, Starscream included have surrendered and are living there peacefully. Prime is leading us, Prowl and Prime and Ironhide and the Wreckers, they’re all here. We’re regrouping and restoring ourselves. No one can enter this entire solar system without being met with force} Bee explained.

They looked at him, then each other, then Bee once more. Sitting up slowly, shaking his helm Runaway looked at him. {You’re telling me the truth?}

Bee nodded. {I wouldn't lie to you. Mini-cons forever, right?} Bee smiled.

Runaway looked at him, then smiled slowly. {Mini-cons forever.} he said softly as he bumped his fist with Bee.

Sam who was sitting on Bee's hand watched them talk, enjoying their emerging delight and was glad to be a help. That they were talking in Cybertronian and he couldn't understand a word was secondary. Apparently, Bee was the correct balm. The two mini-cons looked at last like they felt safe.

=0=Ops Center

Prowl got the update walking from Ops Center to Med Bay. Entering, he grinned at Bee and Bee introduced him to the mini-cons. Runaway looked in rather good shape mentally Prowl calculated but the other one was still rather ragged. "Pleased to meet you both," he said.

The white mini-con, a small edgy looking creature was called White Wash. He looked at Prowl with a frown. {I remember you}

Prowl nodded. {I am Second-In-Command of the Autobot Armed Forces and sub commander to the Prime}

(I remember you and Sentinel} he said frowning deeper.

Prowl nodded. {I was his S.I.C. until his death. I am now S.I.C. to Optimus Prime}

{And that's not **al** l I suppose. Not all that I remembered you were to the Prime} White Wash said as his anger long suppressed began coming out. {There was more and I remember it}

Prowl's expression turned to ice then he turned to Ratchet with an optic arching as he shook his head in disgust. {I see they are rallying}

Ratchet who was glowering at the white con nodded. {Just as nasty and spiteful as ever}

White Wash looked at Ratchet. {You don't care about us. You just want us up to speed so you can enslave us, too}

Bumblebee  who was mortified and horrified turned from Prowl to them.  { You're full of slag. We jeopardized a mission to kill Shockwave to save your sorry afts.  ****Shockwave** ** . We could have left you in the storage bin where he put you but Prime told us to bring you. He said and I quote, "We can't leave them } Bee was furious and he looked at Prowl  with  shame on his face.  { Prowl, I'm sorry }

Prowl looked at Bee with affection. {Not your fault. Don't worry about it}

{I'm sorry anyway} Bee said looking at the two of them with anger. {You need to shape up. The Autobots are the good bots. We saved you and you better be grateful or I'll slam your afts into the wall}

{No you won't} Ratchet said glowering at the bots. {I’d just have to fix them and I might accidentally break something vital. Accidentally}

The two mini-cons shifting in their seats looked at Ratchet with loathing.

Prowl watching with a small amount of personal satisfaction pulled Ratchet to one side. {Your hearing is in three days}

** { ** ** What ** ? } Ratchet said  with  s urprise .  { Three days. Those  ** fraggers ** ** } **

{You should hear the ruckus in the press. They have been everywhere in the media slagging us from here to Pluto and back. This could be ugly}

{When do they not, Prowl?} Ratchet asked his optics narrowing in outrage. {We'll see. They’ll be laying their own traps when they do this and I intend to oblige them}

Prowl nodded then grinned at Bumblebee.

Bee who was pained and embarrassed ruefully grinned back then glared at the two mini-cons.

Ratchet looked at the screens then pulled plugs. "Bee, they can go. I want to put them into a box and send them back to Shockwave but that wouldn't be neighborly would it? Could you take care of them? And make sure no one steps on them, the tiny little fraggers," Ratchet said digging them in the main bone of contention that mini-cons seemed to have with larger bots.

They glowered at him then hopped down to barely come up to Bumblebee's knee assemblies.

Ratchet snorted. {Like having sparklings running around}

The mini-cons glowered up at Ratchet. (We don't need a babysitter}

( The  ** slag ** you do } Ratchet said.  { You’re on an Autobot base on an alien world and the last thing we want you two slaggers to do is frag up our treaties with the humans. If we have to stick you in the brig we will. Bumblebee is in charge of you until further notice and I don't want to hear another word }

Ratchet leaned down  with  one of his famously infamous ‘masks of doom’  from his Ratchet the Hatchet line firmly in place. 

The mini-cons leaning backward nodded.

Bee picking up Sam  grinned at Ratchet. 

"Take them to the rec room and get them energon, Bee.  Make sure they download the English files so they can talk. You’re a good son," Ratchet said with a smile.  He felt deep empathy at  Bee’s embarrassment.

Bee who was grinning once more nodded looked down. (Come on. I'll show you around}

They walked past Ironhide as he came in the door then stopped. {That's a sparkling} White Wash said with astonishment.

Ironhide who was unaware of the moments before bent down to show them his sparkling. {Orion. He's called Orion like the Prime}

They looked at him, then the sparkling who was only just  ****THIS** ** much shorter than they were. Then they looked at Ratchet. Then Bee. Then they walked out quietly. Bee  who paus ed long enough to kiss Orion on the helm continued out with a bemused Sam in his hand. 

Ironhide  walk ed to Ratchet. "What's with them?"

"Head up their aft disease," Ratchet replied taking his sparkling to coo over him.

"Oh. Usual mini-con malady."

Ratchet grinned. “Yep,” he said.

=0=Ops Center

Prime having returned from a video conference meeting at N.E.S.T. HQ with Glenn Morshower walked onto the command deck with a spring in his step. They’d set the snare and the humans were all over the media preparing themselves for entrapment. All the Autobots and their allies had to do was hang on for a month. Pausing beside Prowl, he kissed his helm softly and walked to a chair to sprawl in it with a smile.

"You look happy," Prowl said walking over to stand before him with a slight smile on his face.

"Not a bad few orns. We have Shockwave fooled and we have the enemy building their own gallows. Daniels is back with orders to disrupt. The mole is moling like a good boy and we saved two mini-cons from a life of slavery."

"Those mini-cons are vile," Prowl said shaking his head with disgust.

"What?" Prime asked as he sat up straighter.

Prowl told him the executive version. Prime's attitude shifted as he considered the insult and The Rumor That Wouldn’t Die, then he took a moment and his good cheer returned. "I just decided that I cannot let them get to me. If I did I would be punting them right and left."

"Fortunately, Bumblebee puts the lie to their vileness."

"He is a good youngling, that one," Prime agreed. He smirked as he nudged Prowl's ped with his drawing own, drawing a faint smile and a slight optic roll from the taciturn winger. "Where are they? I want to talk to them."

"Ratchet was releasing them into Bee's custody, poor Bee. He's very embarrassed."

"Well, I will go and unembarrass him then," Prime said rising to leave. "I would like to meet with Ratchet over the hearings and I would like you to put together a team to go with him."

Prowl nodded as Prime leaned down to drop a kiss on his lips. Then he walked out leaving Prowl slack jawed behind him.

=0=Rec Room

Prime sat down next to Bumblebee who grinned at him. He made the introductions as Prime nodded to Sam and the two silent mini-cons who were staring at him with no small wariness and fear. Prime looked kindly at them. [Welcome to Diego Garcia]

The two cons staring at him with narrowed optics nodded silently in return.

{What's next?} White Wash asked. {What do you want to do with us next?}

Prime shrugged. [What do **you** want to do? What skills do you possess?}

{Besides power linking?} White Wash asked an edge to his vocals.

[Ratchet ripped that all out of you and put you back together. What did you do before this and what could you do if you wanted to do something helpful and useful?} Prime persisted.

They stared at him a moment, then shrugged. {I was a maintenance manager of our village} White Wash replied.

{I was a defensive engineer} Runaway said.

{We have a colony on Mars, next planet over that way} Prime said jerking his thumb digit to the side. {If you wish you can be out of here on the next flight and established there. Skills are needed and there is plenty of work. Ultra Magnus is the city manager and the main Autobot garrison protects it and the refugees that live there. We have more coming including an as yet unidentified mini-con village}

They looked at each other, then Prime. {We would probably be happier there} Runaway said. {Magnus ... he won't boss us around? Like the Decepticons? We can walk around and do things, too?}

Prime nodded with a kindly expression. {We have laws and rules you have to obey and if there ever is an attack and there has not been so far, you would be subject to those regulations as well along with everyone else including the many civilians that live there. We also have Seekers and they are model citizens. We expect that you will be also}

Runaway nodded.

White Wash frowned. {Seekers … I remember them. They shot up my village. Why do you let Seekers live there?}

{ Because at the root of everything we are all Cybertronians. We are an endangered species.  ** All ** of us matter. I do n o t want you to go there and cause trouble. Everyone gets along. Mostly } He quashed the image of a riot from his processor  to focus on the task at hand.

They stared silently at him for a moment as they had an off line conversation. {We would prefer to go there}

Prime glanced at Bee. {Cosmos is due shortly. Have them return to Autobot City with him. I will alert Magnus and have someone waiting to escort them to The Fortress} He looked at the mini-cons as he rose to go. {Good luck and Primus bless you} Then he walked away.

They watched him then looked at Bee. {I don't like the Primes} White Wash said. {They didn't save us. They didn’t even try}

{ Until now } Bee leaned in angrily.  { We ****couldn't** ** save you then. We  ** tried ** . I was  ** there ** . But Optimus Prime jeopardized a  ** huge ** mission to save you now. You  ** might ** want to think about gratitude }

They stared at him, then White Wash shrugged. {And if we don't?} he asked defiantly.

{Don't worry. There's plenty of room in the brig at Autobot City. And you won't be alone. There’s two other dumb aft mini-cons already there for being stupid, too} Bee leaned forward. {You might want to know that you’re embarrassing all of us with your fraggin' attitude}

White Wash bristling shrugged with defiance. {Tough}

Bee sat back. {Ratchet is right. Small mech syndrome}

The two glared at him silently.

Sam watched and wondered. He didn't understand a word they were saying but he was enjoying the show.

Before they touched down in Autobot City they would have downloaded every language file from Earth that was possible.

  
  


Chapter 138

=0=Conference Room off Ops Center, Diego Garcia

They sat together, the senior Autobot officers and went over every sort of question that could come up and peppered Ratchet with them. He sat in his seat with Orion sleeping in his arms and calmly, usually, answered them. The soldiers and their strategists came as well and added their questions, conundrums, dueling points and personal attacks to the mix.

On the walls around the room with the audio muted, their enemies and their allies in the media and government were pounding the airways to get across their point: Autobots bad, Decepticons go away if they go. Polls overnight in major markets had shown that it was making headway in certain demographics.

Prowl then explained them to everyone in his own ‘Prowl’ manner.

"So what you're saying is … we don't have a friend in the dumb aft segment of public opinion," Ratchet said smirking slightly. "All of the square heads, bad spellers, nitwits, mouth breathers and wife beaters want us gone?"

Prowl smiling broadly for a second nodded. "Just about."

"But if we had to get up a posse we could rely on book readers, college graduates, younglings, most minorities, anyone who isn't an investment banker, lepers, computer nerds, car fanciers, hemp farmers, librarians, worker bees who like our makes and models though it would take millennia with current wages to own one, the disaffected, white collar criminals, motorcycle gangs and vegans."

Orion shifted in his recharge so Ratchet shifted him helping him find a more comfortable position. He looked at Prime and grinned. "I'm trying to care."

Prime grinned back. "So am I."

"If we didn't have Autobot City to fall back on," Jazz said, "we might, actually."

"True," Prime said sitting back to relax. "But I am not going to let anything ruin the inevitable conclusion shining off in the distance."

"When the curtain falls and the reviews come out and say, 'go straight to jail, don't pass go, don't collect $200?" Bumblebee asked as he brought in energon for everyone. They looked at him with interest. "Monopoly. Sam likes it. It's a game."

Pause as relevant data is pulled. Grins all around the table. One rather unusually tall and sweetly dispositioned mini-con relaxes and takes a seat unbidden. Leans against Ratchet and tickles sparkling's ped. Sparkling grins in recharge. Grins all around the table again.

"Where were we?" Prime asked as he put his peds up, put aside the Primal dignity as he didn’t really care about it at the moment.

Much.

"I want to talk about the younglings and even this sparkling," Ratchet said.

"That's a good idea," Prime said.

"I think we have to stay on topic, Optimus. We only have one more day to prep," Prowl began.

"I hear that Spirit actually said a word yesterday," Jazz said leaning back to relax into his chair.

"He did," Prime said proudly. "He called me atar."

"Awww," went around the room as everyone began to chat about the younglings. Silverbow was speaking halting Cybertronian words, simple and mostly inflected correctly while T-Bar was riding the bike along with Rambler and they didn't need training wheels. Going out to the tarmac to ride at night with Prime and Prowl helping when the all clear on spies was given had really shortened the learning curve.

**TAP! RAP! TAP!**

They looked at Ratchet who had a smirk on his face. "I want to talk **about** them but not that."

"Oh." They sat back to wait.

"I’ve been going through the news and the stories that make me the angriest are the ones about the younglings. They’re using our children like weapons." He thought a moment. "They’ve even intuited that there’s a sparkling."

Everyone glanced at Orion lying quietly in Ratchet's arms. The rapping had awakened him and he was staring at the ceiling sleepily. "They mention that we’re ... 'breeding' ... like we were rats. They’re also speculating on our interpersonal habits if you know what I mean."

"'Facing," Ironhide said leaning in helpfully.

Everyone snorted and snickered.

Prime leaned forward to rest his elbows on the table. "What do you suggest, Ratchet?"

He thought a moment then look at Orion. "I think that what we don't control, we lose. They have made us out to be less than sentient and that we 'breed'. I hate that word. Its mean and mindless and creates the impression that we’re 'other' and not knowable in any real way. What we need to do is control what they see and hear and know about us ourselves. Here’s what I want to do with the younglings and sparkling."

And he told them.

And they agreed.

Oddly enough.

=0=Later that day

He walked to the hangars to get the air. Beyond them the tarmac was dotted with incredible jets and humongous cargo planes. Smaller and larger mixed together, the largest of all was Silverbolt. He was over 240 feet long with a beautiful red, gray, white and yellow design scheme when in root mode. The basic white was detailed with the other colors and his Autobot insignia he proudly wore on his side. He was beautiful.

Inside Man loved to come and look at the planes, their sheer grace and beauty coupled with the idea that they were sentient drew him almost every day. He walked past a jet that he knew to be Sky Dive. Pausing, he patted it. A shimmer of electrical energy greeted him and he smiled wider as he patted him again. Moving onward, he walked around Silverbolt looking him over with admiration. As he did, the ships discussed him amongst themselves.

:I do believe you have an admirer: Sky Dive said snickering softly.

:He comes every day to look at us. I wish I didn't want to step on him: Silverbolt replied. :He has excellent taste in aviation:

:You might want to let Prime know that you’ll fly him to prison when the whole mess becomes public:

Silverbolt snorted. :I have dibs?:

A pause as Sky Dive accessed appropriate language files. :You have them: he replied with a smile.

They chatted together keeping their conversation to themselves as Cosmos was recharging nearby. The mole walked all around them admiring them and when he left the information was sent to Prowl. The sun rose higher and the Aerialbots and Cosmos soaked it all in before heading off into the darkness of space once more.

=0=In a room

They stripped the room of furniture leaving only a small table and a couple of chairs. They had draped fabric over all of the furnishings and made sure that the background was bare and a clean white. Then one by one, they brought the children into the room, sitting and standing them here and there, posing them with and without their favorite toys. The cameras fed the images directly into the computers and a handful of senior Autobots stood around the screen reviewing them, choosing some and consigning others to personal rather than the ambassadorial files that Ratchet was going to use.

They took dozens of them and organized them into groups allowing easier access and choice if the time came to show them. Ratchet was pleased and watched as Ironhide posed their little sparkling, setting him this way and that, allowing for his 'good side' whatever that was. To Ratchet and Ironhide every side of Orion was his good side.

Sunstreaker who was art director for the shoot was gentle and careful as he moved the younglings and sparklings here and there getting them to stand in the most photographically impressive poses. They all knew and loved him, especially Silverbow and they did what they were asked, even Orion.

When it was done they had over 200 photos, some perfection, some sweet and funny, some detailed to their various genitors for personal mementos. They were added to the files for Ratchet to use and he would have the call on what to show and when.

For Ratchet, it was about fraggin' time.

=0=Mercs

The mercs were everywhere. One could almost trip over them. They were jogging and walking, using the firing range and obstacle course and they were aggressive about it. Everyone had been warned and they’d kept away forcing the mercs to come closer to the Embassy as they worked their hardest to provoke an incident.

Tim Bolton had taken to sitting on the bench outside the Embassy waiting for someone to raise a fuss. But no one did.

Seth Thomas drove around in a hummer with the top removed. It was hot and sunny and he often went to the beach to watch for Autobots to arrive. One day he and Tim Bolton struck pay dirt.

Silverbow stood in the water spooning it into her pink bucket with a pink shovel. Trailbreaker who was off duty with Hound for the first time in a decaorn lay stretched out on the beach with a holo-novel in his servos and his helm resting on Hound's leg. Silverbow had asked to come pointing to the sea with her tiny hand and clicking the sparkling word for 'go'.

Liberating her and Spirit from the daycare room, they walked down to their favorite beach spot as each carried a child on their shoulders. Spirit and Silverbow had become best friends. It had been warm with a mild breeze, the beach was empty of occupation and it was a lovely moment.

Then they heard an engine roaring farther up the beach coming toward them swiftly. Sitting up quickly to look down the sandy stretch, Trailbreaker took it all in with horror. A vehicle was coming straight for them and the children who were walking back to their guardians froze in place to look at the hummer as it careened toward them.

Trailbreaker and Hound, each rising as fast as they could leaped forward to throw themselves toward the infants to tackle them and fall into the water. As they did the hummer clipped Hound's ped spinning him in the air. He fell backwards into the water with Spirit safely in his arms and they both went under falling into the waves to disappear.

Trailbreaker rose up drenched as water fell out of his frame like a water fall. He held a wailing Silverbow in his arms as he looked at the disappearing hummer. He pulled a gun from subspace, aimed and fired to hit the hummer in the back end before it rose over a hillock and drove away. Hound who rising slowly to stand in an agony of pain held a silently traumatized Spirit tightly in his arms.

: **Trailbreaker to Prowl!** :

:Prowl here:

: **Someone just tried to kill the** **children** **!** :

There was no response because Prowl was running frantically out of the Embassy pulling his weapon from subspace as he went. Behind him following without a clue but following none the less, Jazz, Bumblebee and Blaster ran with weapons in hand. On the tarmac catching a view of the group running to the beach, Optimus Prime began to run, too. Out of the door behind him with a look of shock and horror on his face, Ratchet ran with a med kit in his servos.

Lennox and Epps who were walking with Prime watched him go with the others, then began to run too. Passing them unnoticed, a damaged Hummer drove by with two shaken but satisfied mercs.

Tim Bolton and Seth Thomas had provoked.

=0=On their way

Prowl had jumped the fence, landing to run without missing a beat. Jazz and Bumblebee followed, then Blaster. They ran for the group huddled on the ground as Prowl slid to a halt then fell to his knees as he frantically assessed the two shivering crying younglings. Taking Spirit to hand him to Bumblebee, then moving toward Hound, Prowl saw that his foot was crushed. Looking up the beach he saw Prime running with Ratchet and the two soldiers following.

They gathered around as Ratchet knelt gently assessing Hound's foot. He lay back in agony relaxing only after Ratchet gave him a pain killer. "What happened?" Ratchet asked, his voice quivering with tension. "Someone tried to kill these sparklings?"

Trailbreaker seething with rage nodded. He looked at Prime who had taken Spirit into his arms and was holding and patting him as he cried. "Someone drove straight at us. Hound and I were over there," he said pointing to their spot a distance away. "The younglings were playing in the water and had just started to come back after Hound called them. That's when we looked up and saw a hummer driving straight at them. We both jumped up and leaped for them, falling into the water together. Hound got clipped by the hummer." Trailbreaker was incandescent with fury. "They tried to kill our sparklings. Our little infants."

Everyone was quiet as they listened, stunned by the event including the soldiers who.

"Did you see who it was?" Lennox asked.

"I didn't," Trailbreaker said. "I just jumped for the babies. I pulled my gun and fired at him. I don't know if I got a hit. I was too shaken and I’d fallen in the water with Spirit. We both did. The babies were drowned, too."

Prowl rose then turned to Prime. "I want this person found, Optimus. I want them found and punished or I'm going to go looking for them myself."

Prime stared at Prowl then handed him Spirit who clung to Prowl in terror. "I will find him myself, Prowl," Prime said quietly. "I promise you that I will."

=0=Med Bay

Ironhide sat on a med berth as Ratchet repaired Hound's foot. Trailbreaker stood nearby holding Silverbow, the tiny femme clinging to him. She unwilling to let go to be dried off and cleaned up. He swayed gently, an unreadable expression on his face but Ironhide felt his anger. All of them did. The Embassy was in lock down and everyone was waiting for Prime to come back from the Army Administration Building.

A hummer had been found with a plasma hole blown into its rear tailgate. It had been abandoned in a tidal pool erasing any trace of evidence that might be found about the driver. It’d been taken earlier from the motor pool. No one had signed it out and no one had seen it taken. It was just stolen.

Prime had faced off with Daniels telling him forcefully that if any of his mercs fell within the parameters of the Embassy they would be arrested. He also told him that armed guards with orders to shoot would accompany any Autobot or Autobot child that went to the beach or to any other public space on base. It was a cold and dangerous moment in the hangar as Prime laid down the smack.

Daniels for his part listened impassively, giving away nothing nor agreeing to anything. What he didn't know is that Prime knew that Shockwave aka Onda de Choque had asked them to provoke. What Prime hadn't considered was that they would take on their young.

That was never going to happen again.

=0=Ironhide

He walked around the Embassy, a steady route inside and out and would continue constantly through the night and into the morning with his cannons prominently on display for anyone that would be looking. Orion was with his Prowl, Prowl was with Sunstreaker and all was tense and quiet in the tightly packed world of the Autobot Embassy.

Ratchet had considered letting his new prank go but after the event he decided that it would be a great antidote to the anger and fear that had enveloped them in the wink of an eye. So he arranged for an empty room in the back of Med Bay and brought some of the equipment that would be needed. They would do the deed and then the next day when the senior Autobots met, when he would see Ironhide again after his night security shift he would bask in the fun and help everyone else as well.

Smirking, he walked down to the room with the last bit of stuff and his sparkling in his arm. Somewhere in or around the facility the Chaos Bringer, the Doom Master, the Hulking Autobot Avenging Beast of Every Mercenary Fraggers' Worst Nightmares made his silent awesome presence known.

=0=Merc Barracks

Daniels sat on the back patio with Tim Bolton. They shared a beer and a laugh together, this latest provocation a delight to the callow young man. Bolton who was enjoying the bonus that would be placed in his account by Daniels' father clinked his beer with Daniels. Then they sat and talked about football.

Nearby silently, invisibly, Mirage recorded all of their despicable conversations, their remarks over the attack and the payoff information. As he recorded it he sent it to Prowl in Ops Center who played and replayed it before storing it into Ratchet's Senate hearing files. The anger he felt was almost more than anything he’d ever known in a lifetime of angry moments and if he had to sit there all night collating data as it came in he was prepared to do it.

=0=In Med Bay with Sunstreaker

They stood in the back as Sunny got his things together as Ratchet waited patiently. He was reviewing the drawing Sunstreaker had made up from Ratchet's description. "You do good work, Sunstreaker. You're quite the artist." He looked at Sunstreaker and smiled. "I appreciate you doing this for me."

He grinned as he glanced up stirring paint as he did. "This is an awesome prank."

Ratchet grinned. "I think so. You have to keep him on his toes, our Ironhide."

Sunstreaker nodded as he looked down at the floor with an almost savage expression. “Ratchet ..."

Ratchet looked at Sunstreaker. "What, Sunny?" he asked softly.

Nearby waving his little arms, Orion lay chirping to himself. The room was empty but for the three of them. It was quiet and peaceful.

"Ratchet, I wish you were my genitor," he said looking up at Ratchet with an unreadable expression. "You and Ironhide. Even Hide."

Ratchet looked at him and as he did Sunstreaker looked away, staring at the paint he was mixing. Ratchet reached out to take hold of Sunny’s chin to raise his face up. "Consider it done, Sunstreaker," he replied quietly. "I’d be honored."

For a moment Sunstreaker looked at him with dark emotional optics, then he smiled, a large open and genuine smile. It was a beautiful effect as he sat straighter with noticeable relief.

Ratchet grinned. "I mean it, Sunny. Tell that brother of yours, too."

He looked up. "I know. I will."

"Good." Ratchet said as Sunstreaker rose to attach the paint pot to the machine sprayer. "You do know that this means more grandparents."

Sunstreaker snorted. "That's alright."

"Remember that when Prowl and I are fighting over your sparkling," Ratchet said raising an arm.

Sunstreaker laughed out loud, then smiled at Ratchet fondly. "I will."

Then they began Operation Frag With The Mom Van in earnest.


	7. Part Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was posting this fifty parts at a time but the site is now uploading too slowly. I'm breaking this into smaller parts. :(

Chapter 139

=0=Conference Room

It was the weekly N.E.S.T./Senior Autobot staff meeting and they began to congregate in the conference room off Ops Center. The soldiers were there early and brought donuts. That is, they brought energon-shaped donuts that were made as large as they could be given the size of the bots in the room. The biggest bunts they could find and an angel food cake pan had been used and they were loaded on the back of their hummer. They were placed in the center of the table and looked remarkably good.

"Those are cute, William," Ironhide said leaning forward to look at them closely.

"Have one, Hide. We ruined some pans to make them," Will Lennox said with a grin. "Remember to remind me to wear protective gear the next time we do this."

Ironhide grinned then took one of the tiny delicacies to pop it into his mouth. Savoring it, he smiled. "Pretty good."

Epps snorted. "Thanks. We had to get a few of the guys from the fuel station to come and help us formulate those things. What a pain in the butt they are to make."

"Then thanks again," Ironhide said leaning back with a grin.

"Where's Ratchet?" Epps asked looking around as the last mech wandered in to sit.

Ironhide looked around. "I don't know. I just got off security detail from overnight," he said. :Ratchet:

:What?:

:Where are you? Where’s spud?:

:On our way:

:Hurry up. The donuts will be gone if you don't:

[Pause]

:Donuts?:

:Don't ask. The soldiers. Its cute. Hurry up:

:On my way. Begin without me:

As they began the meeting the door opened and Sunstreaker walked in to sit on a chair at the end of the room. He pulled a novel from subspace.

Everyone watched him but no one made any move engrossed as they were in the crime committed against them the day before.

"Fulton is ready to throw them off the island," Prime said summing up his meeting the day before. "The State Department is sending someone to investigate, some undersecretary or something."

"Investigate," Prowl said softly, his tone explaining his feelings about that.

"How about Mirage hanging around them?" Epps said causing all the bots in the room to silence a moment.

"Good idea, Robert," Optimus said kicking Ironhide under the table.

The black bot sat back holding his tongue a moment. "Good idea, Robert."

It was silent a moment, then it picked up again, item after item getting its moment as everyone waited for Ratchet.

=0=Last night and into the morning

Sunny added the last layer of polish as he buffed Ratchet in all the places that he could reach decently. Handing the buffer to Ratchet for the tender places that only Chaos Bringers had ever handled, he sat back with a grin.

Turning slowly as he stared at himself, Ratchet looked at Sunstreaker. "How does it look?"

Sunstreaker grinned. "Like an old time ambulance. It looks really really … shiny and nice."

Ratchet snorted as looked at his servos. "I have red servos. I wish I could tell you how weird that looks from this side of my optics."

"Actually, they look good. I love the chevron."

Ratchet touched his forehead, the smooth steel of the gray chevron equally strange. "What does it look like really?"

Sunny grinned and pointed to the door of the cupboard which he’d pulled open. Ratchet swallowed hard as walked to it to look at his image. The figure in the mirror was another bot, he thought, a good looking sort of sexy in a swishy 'lets play doctor, big bot' sort of way bot. He liked it right away even as it seemed he was looking at someone else.

He was nearly all white but for his servos, hips and aft and the red crosses that were painted on his shoulders. A large red Autobot insignia graced his chest just over his red hips and pelvis. A sharp and crisp gray chevron cut across his fore helm and looked darker than gray against the crisp shiny white of his body. He smiled as he turned slowly to admire the beauty of his new paint scheme. Looking at Sunstreaker who looked at him with a big grin, he nodded. "You’re gifted."

Sunstreaker who was inordinately pleased by his newly minted genitor's compliment considered that he’d just familialy aligned himself with the Prankster King of the Universe. Life seldom met his expectations but this moment at the advent of this prank he felt he’d exceeded even his wildest dreams. "I want to be there."

"I want you there." Ratchet looked at his newest oldest youngling. "Why don't you go in and just sort of sit along the wall. Read something. I'll be right behind you."

Sunstreaker grinned then walked to the door. He paused as he looked back, smiling at Ratchet as if he had invented him. "Thanks, Ratchet. For everything."

Ratchet nodded. "Easiest thing ever."

Sunstreaker walked out leaving Orion and Ratchet alone. Ratchet who was admiring himself for a while walked to his sparkling to look at him with adoration. "Time to go and prank your old pa out of his paint scheme," he said reaching down to pick his sparkling up.

Orion who was staring at a new face, an unfamiliar one surrounded by familiar energy scrunched up his face in his confusion and bellowed.

=0=Ironhide

He sat in his chair waiting with the others, itching to see Ratchet and to hold his sparkling. Overnight without his family was tough on his old aft and he was getting edgy. Then his bond link sort of perked up. He settled into the comfort of feeling his bond and his little bitty buddy.

=0=Ratchet

He paced back and forth holding Orion against his newly white shoulder and his newly white helm talking to him as he did.

Orion hearing the familiar voice quieted and listened until Ratchet would hold him in front of his newly white face and then he would bellow.

Ratchet considered what he should do. Since it was way too early to have a tall cold one he considered his spark. Pulsing a loving flood of warmth to Orion, he felt his tiny spark embrace it. Staring at the stranger holding him he sent a quavering burst back.

Ratchet met it and sent an ocean of familiar love back through the creator bond to the little infant and he quieted as he looked at Ratchet. At last, he found enough familiar to stop crying. Then he reached out with both servos and grabbed Ratchet’s chevron.

=0=Ironhide

He felt a slight unease and then felt peace. He felt a slight unease and then he felt peace. He felt a slight unease and then he felt ...

=0=Ratchet

He finally pried Orion's mitts off his chevron and gathered him up to walk out the door and down the hallway. The on call medic had arrived earlier and was taking up the duty of Med Bay while Ratchet was gone. He looked at the white stranger who had Ratchet's baby and blocked his path. "Just wait a moment. What are you doing with Ratchet's sparkling?"

Two other mechs sitting inside to keep him company rose up and moved toward Ratchet with deeply menacing personas.

Ratchet backed up and bumped into the corridor wall.

=0=Ironhide

He felt a dread and a fear and then he felt more. Then he felt aggravation. Then he felt slight relief. Then he felt haste. Then he felt …

=0=Ratchet

He hurried down the hallway passing mechs who watched him go. No one had seen that mech before and he had Ironhide and Ratchet's sparkling. Comming Prime, they followed as the white medico stranger hustled along.

=0=Prime

He rose immediately, the conversation stopping the same. Pulling his weapon from subspace he nearly jumped the table to reach the door.

Ironhide acting with instinct followed as his cannons revved up. Sunstreaker who didn’t know what was up either was at the door and out with the other two before most of the rest of the group could rise.

In the hallway, a white and red bot with medical markings stopped short and pulled a black sparkling tighter against his chassis. Stepping backwards, he raised a red servo looking back and forth frantically while sputtering at both groups of heavily armed fragged off mechs closing in on him.. Prime raising his weapon pointed it at the strange bot's helm as he ordered him to freeze.

Ironhide stepping out from behind Prime bellowed and leaped forward to grab the sparkling and hand him off to Prime like a quarterback handing off a football. Then he turned back and belted the bot in the kisser, watching with satisfaction as he rose off his peds and flew backwards into the crowd of mechs that had been following him.

Sunstreaker  wa tching with horror skated in front of Ironhide and held up his servos.  **"** ****NO** ** **!** ****DON'T** ** **!"**

**"** ****MOVE, SUNSTREAKER!** ** ****I'M GONNA KILL ME A BOT** ** **!"** Ironhide bellowed.

**"** ****NO** ** **!** ****DON'T** ** **!** ****IT'S RATCHET** ** **!"**

They all froze in place as time almost stood still. Then Ironhide moved forward to look at the white and red bot laying out cold on the concrete. He bent a knee and looked closer, then rose to step back in horror. **"Oh, Primus!** **IT’S RATCHET!** **"**

Prowl who was moving around everyone rushed to the white bot and knelt as shock suffused him. He looked up as he took Ratchet's limp red servo in his own. "Oh, Primus, Ironhide. **You just slagged the Sexy Doctor, you dumb aft!** "

=0=Med Bay

He lay on a med berth watching the birdies sing from the dent in his chin from Ironhide's fist. He was scuffed in the shoulders and his aft from hitting the ground. The day medic worked to bring Ratchet back from oblivion but his boss was not having it. Drifting somewhere in a sea of green, Ratchet was wandering through his processor trying to find his optics. He groaned and moaned twitching slightly as he swam toward the light. Somewhere there was peace and happiness and a little bitty sparkling. Somewhere there was a Chaos Bringer and he had to find them.

Then he would beat the slag out of one of them. The problem for him was he couldn’t figure out which one to punch at the moment.

"Why isn't he online?" Ironhide asked as he paced back and forth. His little sparkling was looking up at him with narrowed optics as he lay in his father's arm.

Sunstreaker who was standing at the end of the berth stared down into Ratchet's white face. He looked stricken.

Bluestreak who was standing behind him with his arms around Sunstreaker looked stricken, too.

"He will. He's rebooting," the relief medic said. His optics were fixed on the screen over the berth.

Prime, Prowl, Bumblebee, the entire senior staff of Autobots and a few others who’d seen Ironhide deck the strange white and red medic were standing nearby watching with stricken optics. Everyone was stricken, especially Ratchet. Finally,  after  flailing for a moment, Ratchet on-lined and sat up,  H is processor  was  swimming. Then he fell back down blinking groggily. He rubbed his face and then paused  to  look at his servos. Sitting up  swiftly , he cried out.  **"** ****OH PRIMUS** ** **!** ****MY SERVOS ARE RED** ** **!** ****WHAT HAPPENED** ** **!"**

Ironhide handing off his sparkling to Prime who juggled him like a ball until Prowl grabbed him leaned over Ratchet. " **R** ** **atchet**** **!** **Can you see me**?"

Ratchet paused his yelling to look at Ironhide. He gripped his arms and pulled himself back up. "Ironhide."

"Ratchet."

"Ironhide."

"That's me, Ratchet."

[ Pause ]

**"** ****IRONHIDE** ** **!** ****YOU HIT ME** ** **!"**

"Uh, yeah, Ratchet. You uh ..."

Ratchet sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the berth pausing to control his dizziness and nausea. He looked at Ironhide with a fierce expression of doom. "What the frag did you hit me for?  ****THERE WERE AT LEAST A THOUSAND GUNS POINTING AT ME** ** **!"** He looked at Prime.  **"** ****INCLUDING YOURS** ** **!"**

Prime who was shuffling his feet, gathering himself as he stepped forward. "We were trying to prevent your sparkling from going some place with a strange medic no one could recognize."

"Oh, ****someone** ** could," Ratchet replied glaring at Ironhide.  **"** ****RIGHT, IRONHIDE** ** **!"**

Ironhide who was shifting from ped to ped, too, looked at Ratchet. "I think you're beautiful." That was all he could say. He stood on his peds looking like a sparkling caught 'doing bad' and said, "I think you look **real** beautiful, Ratchet."

Ratchet touch ed his jaw and fel t the dents looked at Ironhide and shook his head. "Well,  ****THANKS** ** , Ironhide." He touched his face again, then stared at his servos. "I have red servos." Then he reached up and felt a chevron. "I have a chevron." Looking at all of them  until he finally spott ed Sunstreaker, he vaguely remembered something they did together. "Why do I have a chevron on my head?"

Sunstreaker shook his head. "The prank."

Ratchet looked at Sunstreaker for a moment  then nodded. "Oh, yeah. The prank." He looked at Ironhide who looked positively ill. " ** Ha-ha ** ," he said moving to stand up. He leaned back on the berth to look at his hands. Then he looked at Ironhide. "Looks like the joke's on me."

"It was a great joke," Ironhide said looking at Ratchet contritely. "You look beautiful and its a great joke." Ironhide found himself trying not to laugh. He looked at the floor. "Sexy Doctor."

" ** Dumb aft  ** ****Mom Van** ** ," Ratchet said shaking his head. "What am I  **ever** going to do with you, Ironhide?" he asked standing up more steadily.

Ironhide grinning slightly shrugged. "I can think of a thing or two," he said with a smirk.

Prime chuckled then they all began to laugh, all of them but Ratchet. He looked at Sunstreaker who was smiling slightly and then he winked. Turning back to the group, he smiled broadly. "By the way, Ironhide. I want you to know that I’ve made a big change in our family. We have two more younglings."

Ironhide pausing in his mirth looked at Ratchet for a moment wondering what new piece of the Pit was going to fall on him. "What do you mean?" he asked warily.

"We have new younglings."

"We do."

"Yes," Ratchet said  grinning at Sunstreaker. "Sunstreaker and Sideswipe. Sunstreaker," Ratchet said turning  to fixing Ironhide with a severe optic. "Meet  ** ' ** ****dear old dad** ** ** ' ** ."

Ironhide looked from a smirking and amused Sunstreaker to Ratchet, to a surprised and happy Bluestreak, to a Prime as lost as he was, to a smirking Prowl and back to a Ratchet who was one sexy medico. "Oh," was all he dared to say.

Ironhide looked at Sunstreaker who waggled his digits at his new genitor. "Hi, Dad," he said with a smirk.

"Oh, help me," Ironhide muttered to no one in particular.

=0=In the quarters shortly after

"You look beautiful."

"You said so."

"I didn't mean to hurt you."

"You did."

"I'm sorry."

[Silence]

"Are you going to be mad at me a long time?"

"I don't know."

[Silence]

"You  ****really** ** look beautiful."

[grin] "You think so do you?"

[tentative grin, a grin testing the water to see if it was safe to grin again] "I do. I dream about you like this you know."

"So I've heard."

[ Pause ]

[Big body moving closer to steaming medico as both sit on a couch at either end  of it because at the moment ‘middle’ doesn’t exist ] "You know, I  **really** wondered if you could carry off a chevron and you can. It  ****really** ** ** is  ** pretty, Ratchet."

[slight grin] "Is that so."

" ** I ** think so. You wouldn't mind if I touch it would you?"

[Pause]

"My chevron?"

"Yep."

[Grin] "With what?"

"Any number of things."

"Are they clean?"

"Mostly."

[grin] "You're a true romantic, Ironhide."

[grin] "What can I say? I'm a Mom Van."

"You sure are, you slagger."

And then they didn't talk for a while.

  
  


Chapter 140

  
  


=0=Heading out

The day of departure was upon them again as Ratchet walked out with his guards toward Silverbolt. He was shiny, beautiful, white and red with a gray chevron. It didn't take long to make the repairs and he decided to keep his scheme for a while because Ironhide liked it. As for the committee, he didn't care what they thought and if they did, he’d just say he was a doctor and he wanted a change of scheme. Of course, as an ally and friend, William Lennox told him some other possibilities were 'Fuck off', 'Fuck you' and 'Shove it' but Prime frowned and so they were off the table.

Too bad, so sad he thought as he wandered along.

He walked to Silverbolt holding Orion and when he got there he hugged and kissed him repeatedly, handing him back to Ironhide, then hugged and kissed Ironhide repeatedly. They stood to one side going over the link they intended to share, then Ratchet followed the others up the ramp to the plane. Watching the two outside before they disappeared with the closing of the door, Ratchet moved along and sat down to relax as best he could against the bulkhead. Down the jet body was William Lennox already lost in a novel on his Kindle. He grinned and considered the brouhaha when the panel saw him there.

His security team consisted of standby mainstays like Jazz, Bumblebee, Prowl and Mirage. Springer was also there as per the request of Prime, flying in from Mars overnight. They would be going to the same venue, the Walter E. Washington Convention Center and the panel would be held there. They asked to have General Morshower and Major William Lennox attend but Weaver who was using his committee chairman's power denied their request.

Prime asked them anyway and they agreed to come and sit in the audience, ready to step forward if necessary. The team would be linked with Prime and Prowl would be his aide. All in all, they felt confident. They were aware that they’d be going into a hostile situation but when weren't they? They settled in and waited as the journey to Washington, D. C. flew past in the hold of Silverbolt.

-0-Washington, D. C.

They drove from the airport guided by police escort and when they reached the convention center they entered the same gate to go inside. Outside as before, every sort of group was waiting for them. There was pro and con, odd ball and professional and even though the weather had kept the numbers down, the people that were there made up for it in volume.

The media was also there in droves and their breathless prose filled the airways. Ratchet listened to some, then turned it off, preferring to banter with everyone including Ironhide. They arrived at last, drove to the venue and went around back to the parking lot secured for them. The trip inside the building was snug as ever but uneventful and as he drove to the panel to park where he usually did the others came in and took up their stations.

A yellow Camaro concept car, late model and driver-less led the way in and took up the angle facing to the right of the panel. Jazz was next, a silver Porsche 911 and he drove to secure the angle of the room facing the back wall. The next vehicle was Prowl as his late model Camaro C5 Z06 Police Cruiser. He rolled to park alongside of Ratchet and the last car inside the room was Mirage, a blue and white Ligier vintage Formula 1 racer. He parked to face the left side of the room. Springer, a yellow and green GMC Topkick twin stack pickup truck paused in the doorway and took up station with a view of the entire room.

Ratchet waited, letting the crowd inside and the audience at home study and view them. He watched the panel, the majority of whom were friends of the Autobots and the four who were not led by Beau Weaver. Senator Hoxley, a fast friend was there but she was minority ranking member losing her chairmanship to Weaver in the last election. Yes, Ratchet thought. Elections do have consequences.

All were watching and the room was pretty quiet. Then Ratchet began to transform. The silence was only broken by the sounds of the transformation and when Ratchet stood before them he was a remarkable awe inspiring sight. Over twenty feet tall and weighing (depending on the load) almost seven tons at maximum, he was white in body, red in accent and on his forehead was a dashing dark gray chevron.

The committee stared at him, then Weaver leaned forward. "We were expecting Ambassador Ratchet."

"I am Ambassador Ratchet."

Weaver regarded him, the silent room regarded him, then Weaver spoke again. "You’re supposed to be a sort of yellowish-green with black."

"Not today," Ratchet said smiling brightly. He moved to stand before the bench where he would sit then turned slightly to look at the police cruiser. "I would like my assistant to join me."

Then he did.

The police car began to transform and when it was over an Autobot individual and type they’d never seen in person stood before them. Nearly twenty feet tall, a long lean configuration built for speed, Prowl was beautiful. He shown in the lighting, his black and white scheme stark and dramatic. He turned to face them with an impassive expression on his handsome face, his red chevron brilliantly colorful in an otherwise elegant and muted paint scheme. His mech wings were erect and anyone who could read wing language would know that he was alert and wary.

"This is Prowl, Second-In-Command of the Autobot Armed Forces and sub commander to our leader, Optimus Prime."

Weaver appeared to be consulting a thick notebook turning pages until he found one. Then he paused as if reading before looking up. "We were not told that you would be bringing others with you."

"That’s not correct, Senator. You **refused** to allow us to bring along others to assist us in our presentation and answer session. We, however, brought others with us. I reserve the right to call on the expertise of General Glenn Morshower, Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff who you denied permission to attend. Also, Major William Lennox, field commander of the N.E.S.T. Forces that we work with for operations should be here. Both of them were here for the last hearing but you denied their request and ours to attend this one."

"We’re here to talk to you, not them," Weaver said.

"If you want to have the best information about us and about what we do individually and in tandem with N.E.S.T. you need them, too," Ratchet said calmly.

"I won't allow them to speak," Weaver said. "Our requests were specific."

"And so were ours," Ratchet said quietly and firmly. "I find it difficult to grant yours when you won't grant ours, ours which have precedent from the last hearing. What are you trying to prevent, Senator? The truth?"

Weaver glanced up sharply, then bristled. "Are you accusing me of something?"

"Why don't we begin and find out, Senator?" Ratchet said quietly.

For a moment it was silent and tense in the room. When Weaver stared without comment, Ratchet turned to Prowl and nodded. The two of them moved together to sit on the bench rather gracefully as Prowl glanced back at Morshower and Lennox. Both men were sitting grimly in the dark atmosphere of the room.

-0-Diego Garcia

The night before had been tense for Prowl. He was not used to being the focus of attention. He loved to be the mech behind the mech, the one who made all the objects circle the sun in the proper directions and at the proper speeds. He could bring in expertise to assist things when they failed and he could even deliver the needed personal appearance when necessary. But to be an object of direct scrutiny, that was different.

Ratchet was the chosen experienced diplomat. Prowl could handle difficult things but he didn't like to. Speaking to unruly and illogical individuals was wearying. The twins were case in point. Although, perhaps their newly minted youngling status and all around adult association with new genitors would do them good. He hoped so. His family was central to his well-being. Having a decent home to go to, the warmth of love and companionship so central that he was willing to probably share his grandson with another grand genitor … maybe … that made his world complete.

Probably.

Maybe.

He grinned then turned back to his life.

-0-At the hearing

Weaver stared heatedly at Ratchet a moment, then began. "We’re having hearings into the likelihood of discontinuing the association of the Autobots and the United States government," he began. A murmur ran through the room so he rapped his gavel. "There will be none of that." He looked at the two and continued. "We would like to review the arrangement that we believed was done in haste. We would like to know why we should continue to have these agreements and why the Autobots should be allowed to stay on United States soil and even on this planet."

:He's not wasting any time: Prime sounded irritated already as Ratchet grinned. Prowl sent him soothing thoughts as they settled in, waiting for the hammer to fall.

"Mr. Ambassador, we've allotted fifteen minutes for you to make your case in an opening statement for why the Autobots should continue to have ally status with our country," Weaver began and when he did the panel members who were heavily favored for the Autobots erupted.

Ratchet sat back to watch them eviscerate the Senator for a while until he relented. "We’ll grant you thirty minutes, Ambassador, with the option of perhaps a few more to make the case for the continuation of treaty agreements for the Autobots at the end."

Ratchet grinned. "That long?" he asked. "Since you've been so 'generous' to double the time allowed for me to make the case for the continuation of one of the most important and successful partnerships between independent nations in your history I would like to ask that I get this opportunity at the end rather than the beginning of this hearing."

"Why, may I ask?" Weaver drawled as he glared at Ratchet with irritation.

"Because I'm asking," Ratchet said smoothly. He smiled and felt the tone of the room. They were all on edge. No one expected this to be an easy hearing but the tone set by Weaver had been harsh and hadn’t set well with the audience. Ratchet intended to build that feeling in the audience using them as his gauge for the greater unseen mass of people in the television and radio world beyond the room.

He sighed at Ratchet with irritation. "I don't see why we have to wait for your arguments."

"Considering I’m to make a complex argument in the minuscule time of thirty minutes, I’d think you’d be willing to allow me the opportunity to think about what I will say as we go through your questions," Ratchet said. "However, if you don't want to grant to us even the smallest of courtesies we can leave now. After all, you only speak for the United States. You don't speak for Earth.”

"You wouldn't." Weaver stared at him with appraising eyes.

"We would," Ratchet said firmly.

-0-Diego Garcia

Prime grinned slightly. /... now let's see who blinks first … chicken, my aft .../

-0-At the hearing

They stared at each other, then Weaver capitulated. "Granted. I give the floor to my colleague from Louisiana, Senator Randall Brinks."

-0-Diego Garcia

Prime grinned again. "Score one for Ambassador Ratchet."

Everyone there nodded.

-0-At the hearing

"Mr. Ambassador, I'm glad that you're here and I'd like to talk to you about a number of troubling incidents that have come to my notice if you don't mind."

Ratchet nodded as Prowl tensed but no one saw it. His wings arched slightly higher but otherwise he was impassive. They sat silently and waited.

"Apparently, on numerous occasions there have been violent clashes between civilians at the base and Autobots including yourself, I'm told. There was an incident where three civilians were injured, two dying and there was violent destruction of property. How do you feel that this kind of behavior from your people … or what shall I call you?" He looked at Ratchet over the top of his glasses.

Ratchet who was mentally reserving the right to punch his face grinned faintly. "We’re mechs."

"Mechs," Brinks replied pausing. "Mechs for mechanicals?"

"Mechs for mechs," Ratchet replied as a murmur of laughter fluttered through the room.

"Mechs," Brinks replied. "Would you please explain your behavior and that of your … mechs because it's truly reprehensible that such violence should happen and puts in a poor light continuing to hold a treaty with you and your mechs."

"I’d be delighted to address the many acts of violence and provocation against our 'mechs' by the hired mercenaries of Intel-Martin that the present liaison, Jason Daniels insists upon keeping, Jason Daniels who is the grandson of the Senate Majority leader, the leader of your party, Mr. Brinks. I'd also while I do so direct your attention to the numerous investigations and findings for each of these incidents that apparently you don't sound like you've heard of."

"I’ve seen the reports," Brinks countered.

"Then have you read them?" Ratchet asked gently.

"I’ve **seen** the reports," Brinks replied again, a remark that generated a great deal of laughter.

"Since it appears you haven't **opened** them, I'd like to tell you that a vehicle carrying three mercenaries drove straight into one of our bigger soldiers and the resulting destruction from their deliberate and malicious act resulted in two deaths, one permanently injured mercenary, and severe injuries to the unoffensive Autobot who was crossing the tarmac from our Embassy to the N.E.S.T. headquarters in an area that has preferred access for pedestrians. Three independent investigations found the mercenaries not only solely at fault but that they were three times over the legal level for intoxication. They were playing chicken with lives and didn't have the coordination to veer off." He was silent a moment. "I’ll wait for you to digest that information and understand that the mercenaries that Daniels insists on bringing with him spend their days getting drunk in their barracks."

Brinks looked at Weaver who stared at Ratchet with a wrathful expression. Then Brinks looked at Ratchet again. "A barracks was destroyed."

"An Autobot who was walking to the firing range alone was accosted and surrounded by a large number of drunken mercenaries who began to harass him. It brought a response from other Autobots nearby. The barracks was destroyed, yes. The mercenaries were inside shooting out at the Autobots outside with real guns and real bullets. The Autobots cleaned up the site afterward and replaced the barracks, making numerous aesthetic and architectural improvements upon it. You seem to find it hard to understand self defense, Senator."

"You were one of the Autobots in that fracas," Brinks countered. "You were the one who was in the center of it."

"I was the Autobot attacked by a hoard of drunken heavily armed mercenaries as I walked inoffensively to the firing range, yes."

"How could a human be of danger to someone like you?" Brinks replied.

"You’d be surprised. I'm a doctor, the Chief Medical Officer of the entire Autobot Armed Forces. I can tell you stories. What I’d like to see now, however, is all the facts of each of the things you mentioned laid before the viewing public, not just the ones that favor your point of view. You’d have the world believe that the Intel-Martin mercenaries are blameless, that they don't go out of their way to provoke us and that when they come to a sorry end when they do their stunts that they're the victims. None of the incidents that you're mentioning and none that have happened since were generated by us. The liaison, Jason Daniels, likes to hire scum and they've deported themselves as scum."

"You threw one of them in the brig," Brinks continued.

"And you don't mention that he drove a four wheeler to the beach where some of our younger soldiers were having a bonfire after a mission and talking together as friends and comrades do. He came with a gun and if our Prime hadn't ordered a guard to be nearby, there would have been shooting. There were humans in the gathering as well so if you don’t seem too concerned about your weapons harming us, then consider them.

“All of our soldiers have been instructed to walk away but if this person had fired upon them there they would’ve fired back in self defense. Daniels' drunken mercenary came armed with a gun to a party that was of no consequence to anyone but those present. You may thank our Prime for having the foresight to know that the mercs being drunk nearly 24/7 wouldn't miss the opportunity to disrupt an innocent gathering of young mechs."

"So you say," Brinks said to a general groan in the room.

"Actually, there's a report of that investigation, too. Am I to believe that you 'saw' that one, too?"

A wave of laughter filled the room. Weaver gaveled it off. Brinks who was unnerved looked at him with a frown. Then he began with Ratchet again. "There have been too many incidents for us to believe that you're an innocent party."

"And how do you justify that statement? All of the incidents were provoked by drunkenness or deliberate maliciousness by the mercenaries. The mercenaries work for a company that provides child prostitutes to its clients and employees, has a reputation for shooting civilians for sport and is considered the scum of the earth in professional military circles including our own. These are the people you're **defending**? You just told us that you haven't read any of the investigative reports on all of the incidents you're bringing up but you're defending Intel-Martin and their mercenaries anyway. Interesting."

Brinks blinked. "What do you mean?"

"Why would you defend the indefensible when the truth has been proven by independent groups of unimpeachable non-local individuals. Almost all of the reports were done by military investigators flown in from other countries who have no ties to Diego Garcia or to us and it seems to me that you don't have a lot of regard for them. Why do you hate the soldiers?"

Brinks sat up straighter. "My regard for the military is well known, Mr. Ambassador. You remarks are not warranted."

Ratchet paused a moment to access Prime. :The younglings? Now or later?:

:Wait a moment until they mention them. You know they will: Prime replied.

"Really, Senator?" Ratchet said his optics narrowing. "If you say so."

It was tense a moment, then Brinks continued hammering the incident record. Ratchet hammered back gently, with grace and when Brinks’ time was up he’d scored nothing but laughter in the room and a hard look from Weaver.

Ratchet glanced at Prowl who was looking as if he was in a bad dream. Ratchet surged to him a good intention and Prowl surged back.

Andrea Hoxley of California, the former chairman of the committee was next and she greeted Ratchet warmly. He returned the greeting as well. "You have new Autobots with you. Welcome, Prowl."

Prowl nodded. "Thank you, Madam."

She looked at the others. "What wonderful vehicles there are here. Would it be inappropriate if they would transform for us so that we might see some more of your people, to allow our audience and the viewers at home to see some of the amazing gracefulness of your species?"

Ratchet smiled then glanced at Prowl who had relaxed in the warmth of this woman's aura.

He nodded.

Ratchet smiled. "Of course. The yellow Camaro is called Bumblebee. I'm sure you will see why when he transforms." Ratchet called upon him and then the magic happened. Bee transformed and turned to look at them with his blue optics and sweet curiosity.

"The silver Porsche 911 is Jazz," Ratchet said as the Autobot transformed in his own impeccably cool manner and stood before them casually, his visor giving him a raffish look. "Bee and Jazz are special operations, scouts and reconnaissance experts among their many and varied talents." Ratchet nodded so they transformed back, returning to vehicle forms under the awestruck eyes of the crowd and the flashing of a zillion cameras in the room.

"The Ligier Formula car is Mirage. He's an expert at reconnaissance."

He transformed most elegantly then stood tall and proudly, staring at Weaver with a look of discreet disdain.

Ratchet grinned. "The Topkick truck is Springer, the Chieftain of an elite force known as The Wreckers. They're our last ditch lost cause team who do the impossible all the time. He also is the head of all security on world and everywhere else including Diego Garcia."

Springer began to transform and when he finished, he towered over everyone present at his height of twenty-five feet. He stared at Weaver knowing him from Intel-Martin and withheld the desire to walk over and step on him. Everyone looked at the two bots as a murmur ran through the crowd and then as swiftly they transformed back.

"That was incredible," Hoxley said. "The configurations, colors and names, all of it is very exciting and interesting."

"Thank you, Senator," Ratchet said with a smile. "We try."

Everyone laughed as the tension broke then Hoxley began. They went over the reports making sure they were understood and that the blame was firmly on the mercenaries and outside forces.

Then Hoxley brought up the infants.

And then, she brought up Orion.

  
  


Chapter 141

  
  


-0-The hearing, Washington, D. C: A Child’s Life ...

Then she brought up Orion.

Ratchet felt tension flash from himself to Prowl and back. They both glanced at each other, then back again to the kind face and deeply felt affection of Andrea Hoxley. She was holding up newspapers that were taking cheap shots at the idea of the Autobots having children, especially infants amongst themselves. Rude speculation was also in them about mechanical reproduction including crude and demeaning cartoons of bots opening cans and pulling out robotic children.

They were awful, hurtful and filled with stupid unleavened meanness. Many were accompanied by blurry photos. Ratchet and Prowl, ironically parents of all the younglings and sparklings being discussed sat in aggravated silence. The cameras trained upon them, going in for closeup shots of Ratchet's calm but alert expression and of Prowl's deeply and falsely passive one. A camera setting up behind him was trained on his wings. Apparently, someone in the camera mix had figured it out.

"I find these kind of remarks and speculations deeply disturbing," Hoxley said putting down the magazines, the newspapers and excerpts from commentators both in radio and television. "I'd like to give you time to address this commentary."

Ratchet nodded then glanced at Prowl who flicked his wings in annoyance and anger.

:Kick them hard, Ratchet: Prowl sent to him over their link.

:Eyes on the prize, Ratchet: Jazz said.

:Do both, Ratchet: Ironhide added.

Ratchet briefly smirked then pinged Prime. :Discretion on things or do I hold back anything about them and events lately?:

:Complete discretion, Ratchet: Prime said.

:Thank you, Optimus:

:Tell 'em to frag off about the sparkling, Ratchet. And the younglings. Don't forget to tell them about the hummer trying to kill them and all of it: Ironhide interjected.

Ratchet chuckled. :I will: He leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees as he stared at the floor for a moment. Then he looked up into Andrea Hoxley's kindly face. "Do you have children? Grandchildren?"

"Both," Hoxley said.

"Our people can pinpoint almost exactly … we call them younglings and sparklings … when the last child was born to our memory which is very very long." Ratchet said. "As far as we can calculate, among us anyway in our garrison, it was millions of years ago. Bumblebee is the last sparkling and youngling that I had a hand in raising," he said glancing over at the Camaro. "War took us off the map. War and the loss of the Allspark have put us on the brink. In our garrison and even before that I’d ask the mechs and the occasional femme that I'd meet, 'You ever see a sparkling? You ever see a real live child?' And the answer almost every time was no."

He gathered his thoughts. The room was silent as a tomb. "It's a tragedy on a scale that’s hard to quantify that this should be true. Our garrison is almost to the last mech free of memories of children. Imagine your own world free of children. No children. Anywhere. Not for the lifetime of some small stars." He sat back up shaking his head. "Its tragic," he said quietly. "But don't feel sorry for us. We're always a hopeful people. We got refugees in, refugees who heard Prime's call. They came and there were a handful of orphans in their midst. Little younglings."

He smiled and clasped his hands. "I wish you could have seen our mechs around those little almost mythological creatures … younglings and sparklings, imaginary creatures to most of them. They were overtaken with love and they remembered how our people view our young. They’re **everyone's** young. **Everyone** has a stake in their raising. **Everyone** is responsible. We don't worry about child care or children going astray. There's mechs lined up around the block to take care of them, to feed them, read books, play with them and watch while they rest. It's a miracle that this small handful of a hopeful future came to us out of the vast endless cruelty of unforgiving space."

He gathered his thoughts again. "We're very aware of the commentary about us, about our little ones. We feel the pain of it, the indecency. The cold cruelty of the remarks, the lack of an attempt to understand or care about how precious they are to us, the lack of understanding or caring about our past and how this could be such a miracle, the finding of a handful of our children. This we all feel deeply.

"Anger doesn't express what we feel. Children are off limits. Children are protected and cherished. Even in our war, sparklings and younglings are pointedly exempt from harm on both sides as best as circumstances could make it. I can only remember a couple of times seeing children get hurt. We try on both sides to prevent it. **Decepticons** try, **we** try. Our children, **your** children should be the last target anyone with a soul, anyone who pretends to a god, anyone who professes their superiority should focus upon. But they have, the media, opportunistic politicians and pundits, the cold hearted sparkless individuals that see no decency and no dignity in anything.

"We have **bled** for you. We have been pushed to the door of **death** **defending** **you and your world**. And as we defend **you,** we defend with even **more** vigor and effort your precious, irreplaceable, lovely children. Yet, this happens to **ours**. You make us ' **other** ', the unacceptable, the ones for whom it doesn't matter if harm comes because they aren't ' **like** **us',** like you. But we **are**. For all our differences we are **very much** like you.

"I asked the genitors … the parents of the orphans, the younglings and the one lovely little sparkling to allow me to show you what they truly are. And they agreed reluctantly. **Reluctantly**. We protect our little ones, keeping them private because they're precious to us and we'll keep them from harm even if we die doing it. But this time, for this **one time** , I want to throw back the armored walls and let you see the individuals that your press, politicians and evil sparked people have been beating in public for months for cheap political points."

Ratchet straightened then shifted as he looked around the room. "Please look at the empty space at the end of the panel and let me show you just what **we** fight for," he said pressing a point on his helm. A beam of light shot out from his optics, an image formed and solidified. It was Silverbow. Everyone looked at her and a murmur began in the crowd, a murmur of wonder and appreciation.

-0-At Diego Garcia

Hound and Trailbreaker sat in the rec room watching the hearing on the screens that had been moved into there. The place was filled to the brim as everyone sat watching quietly. Silverbow was dozing on Hound's lap, her bear in her arms so she didn't care. She was with her fathers and that's all that mattered to her. For Hound and Trailbreaker, it **all** mattered. It was the only thing.

-0-Autobot City, Mars

It was as silent as a tomb all around the city as mechs -civilian and military- stood or sat around monitors listening and watching the hearing. In the Ops Center sitting in a chair near to the main monitor, Starscream listened, too, his servo resting on his chassis. Thundercracker and Skywarp sat nearby watching as well. They were guests of Ultra Magnus who sat with them, watching as their future lay in the blazing red servos of Ratchet.

-0-At the hearing

The image of Silverbow was of a shy halting child standing with her arms around her chassis and fear on her face as she clutched a yellow cup in her little servos. She was beautiful and frail, slim and frightened. The image had taken a time to get, Silverbow having been uncertain what was needed. Sunstreaker who asked Hound to get her cup managed to get her to pose and later when he did again, she would be more relaxed. She loved Sunstreaker and he loved her.

"This is Silverbow and she's a youngling femme. She should be bigger and stronger, less frail and able to talk. She's none of those things because of the circumstances of her growing up in war and refugee camps all over the place. Her father disappeared going to get food for her and her mother who also was murdered over food. When he didn't come back, she had to find food and was killed, murdered in the attempt. We believe Silverbow saw it but we can't be clear because she doesn't talk yet beyond sparkling … infant … language. She's very sweet, loving and has two mechs who are raising her." Her pink and green paint scheme gleamed like glass.

The image changed and three solemn looking mechs standing together came into view, two of them huddled against one who was older and taller. His arms were around them and a worried expression was on his face. "This is Rambler, the oldest, T-Bar the middle mech and Spirit, the smallest. They're brothers. We do know that they saw both their genitors … their parents murdered in a raid. They've been making their way alone for some time, Rambler taking care of them as best he could. I estimate he would be about eight years old if he were human. The others are younger accordingly. Spirit doesn't speak beyond a couple of baby words. The others do."

The next picture was a charmer. It was Orion. He was sitting on a blanket facing the camera. He held his language ball, the one Perceptor made for him before he was born and he was staring at the camera directly. His little arm bore three yellow stripes. His little black pug nose, his little black finials contrasting with a strip of silver along each side of the crown of his little helm and his direct unwavering gaze brought a ripple of laughter and applause to the crowd. "This is our youngest. He's an infant or a sparkling as we call him. He's the apple of his genitor's eyes, I'll tell you, and so loved. All of our infants and younglings are loved."

The picture changed showing Silverbow digging in the sand with a smile on her face and Spirit next to her holding a bucket. Behind them was T-Bar with Rambler wading in the surf, splashing each other as they laughed. Another picture showed Orion in a tub of water giving a phenomenally aggravated cross expression to the individual trying to wash him. Black brawny arms were all that could be seen. Everyone laughed at the infant as Ratchet smiled.

More pictures came up. Rambler and T-Bar riding their bike without training wheels, all of them sitting on a lap gathered around a book as an unidentifiable mech read to them. There were pictures of them playing ball, looking at planes and walking hand-in-hand with an adult. None of the adults could be seen beyond an arm or servo here and there. There were pictures of Silverbow looking up at a genitor nearly tipping over backwards to see their faces, faces that were never shown. She was shown holding her bear proudly, her dinner cup daintily, her wash cloth capably.

Dozens of pictures moved past one after the other, all of them showing lovely children, children with scars, children now with hope and the edges and pieces of the mechs that loved and cared for them, the mechs that now were their family. Dozens of them were posed by Sunstreaker, lovely haunting pictures, funny pictures, intuitive pictures that showed their personalities, their unique alienness, their universal child nature.

Rambler was shown drawing, reading a book with someone, riding his bike, helping his brothers, sitting in someone's lap napping. His brothers were shown playing, sleeping and eating, all of them happy and attached to the adults that were helping them. That they were Prowl and Prime, no one knew. They just knew someone was taking care of them together.

Orion was shown being held in surf staring at the bubbling water flowing around his tiny peds. He was shown flapping on his stomach as he struggled to move across the floor. He was shown being burped, patted, held in arms and fed. But who was doing it was never shown. Yellowish-green arms and all black arms were in most of the pictures but the faces weren't.

They were shown in groups and separately, doing things together as younglings as well as being alone. They were shown trying to hold Orion, the mellow sparkling sometimes sagging out of their grip and sometimes hanging too far upside down out of their lap. Those were amusing photos.

Some were poignant. T-bar helping Spirit do something simple. Silverbow holding onto her bear tightly as she stood between someone's legs, hiding and peering out. Rambler reading a book to his siblings brought an 'aww' moment to the crowd and Orion sitting with a binky in his mouth holding a small book upside down brought a laugh.

The last picture was a short video. The children were walking ahead of the camera on the beach holding hands and chatting together although you couldn’t hear them speaking. When they reached the shore they turned and smiled at the camera together, servos in hand, bodies poised perfectly as they did. Their smiles were as bright as the sun on their faces. When they did, Ratchet froze the image, holding it for the crowd to see. Finally, it faded.

Immediately, another video image began of Orion sitting on a blanket with binky in place as he struggled to stay awake. His head nodded over and over as he sank forward, jerking up immediately to groggily look around. Sucking fiercely on his binky, he began to trail off and jerked again. He did it a third time and this time his helm hit his knees as the infant fell into recharge. He also fell over on his side. The laughter and clapping from that clip was long and loud.

Ratchet listened to the internal conversation a moment then looked at Hoxley. "That’s who the media, politicians and sparkless cowards out there have been slamming. Yes, Senator, we're sad about it. We're angry about it, too."

"I can understand that, Ambassador. Thank you for the opportunity to see something more of who you are."

"Thank you for your kind help in making it possible. But that's not the worst thing our younglings have faced, scorn and derision in the press. There was an incident that happened just a day or so ago that involved some of these children. Two of them, Spirit and Silverbow were at the beach with their genitors. They were just walking out of the water when a hummer careened out of nowhere and barreled straight toward them. Only the swiftness of the two mechs with them leaping out to grab them out of the way saved the two from being killed. When they did this, saving the children, one of them had his foot crushed when he glanced off the grill of the truck. It was a deliberate act of provocation that was aimed at the weakest among us, our children."

"Did you find out who did this?" Hoxley asked shocked.

"We know," Ratchet said. "The hummer was taken from the motor pool and dumped into the ocean afterward but we know it was mercenaries from Daniels' contingent."

"And you know this because?" Weaver interrupted.

"You’ll find out when the special investigator the State Department is sending writes their report. You remember those? The ones you don't bother to read." Ratchet looked at him with a level gaze.

"You as an ambassador should know better than make unsubstantiated remarks in a hearing," Weaver persisted.

"And so should you and Senator Brinks. You didn't bother to read any of the reports filed over the behavior of the mercenaries but you’re filled with charges and accusations at us, the ones exonerated each time, charges all of which the reports have found to be false," Ratchet said in reply. "Or is that alright for **you** to do and not anyone else?"

"You’re out of order, Ambassador," Weaver said as he leaned forward angrily pounding his gavel on the table.

"How? How am I out of order?" Ratchet asked.

Senator Hoxley intervened at that moment. "Senator Weaver, you’re wasting my allotted time. I am asking for more time to recover from this ridiculous argument you insist upon having with the Ambassador."

At this point the argument switched to Hoxley and Weaver. Ratchet sat back then glanced at Prowl.

He was staring at them as if they were insane and in Prowl's ordered logical world view they probably were.

Ratchet grinned at him then waited. This was child's play compared to some of the pits he had wallowed in for the Autobot Cause.

-0-Ops Center, Autobot City, Mars

Starscream watched the arguments shaking his head as he did. The images of the little sparkling and the younglings were lovely to his optics. He would be transferring his hatchlings into an incubation pod shortly and as he watched the hearing he made up his mind. Ratchet would be the one who would do this for him. No one else would do. He made the comment over the trine bond. They looked at him then nodded. It was unanimous. Only Ratchet, fearless and oddly painted champion of children and the Cybertronian people would do.

-0-Ops Center, Diego Garcia

Prime watched quietly, the odd comment here and there reaching him over the internal comm link as Ratchet and Prowl sought advice now and again. But all things being equal, he didn't have to do anything beyond let Ratchet know that he was there and he supported him because he did. A thousand times he had and a thousand times Ratchet had gone out and done battle in the arena of words for the Autobot Cause.

Ironhide sitting beside him with Orion firmly in the crook of his arm glanced at Prime. "I have to say that Ratchet looks like one beautiful mech out there."

Prime nodded. "Right now, he's the most beautiful mech I can see. Of course, the one sitting with him is pretty beautiful, too."

Ironhide nodded. "They shine up pretty well don't they?"

Prime laughed out loud as he glanced fondly at Ironhide. "They do."

"I told Ratchet about my dream of him wearing that paint scheme. He is one sexy medic in that set of colors and the chevron? I love them. Prowl has a nice chevron."

"He does," Prime said. "Mech wings and a red chevron. What more can a bot ask for?"

"You got me," Ironhide said with a smirk.

They grinned at each other then settled back to watch Ratchet do battle with the next two Senators, both of them unfriendly and both of them representing deeply conservative constituencies in their otherwise mostly normal states.

-0-At the hearing

"Mr. Ambassador," Senator Thomas representing Montana began, "why shouldn't we believe that if you and your garrison go that the Decepticons will leave us alone?"

"Because they never have in like situations in all the time that we’ve been at odds. You’ve set off a spark throughout their empire. The news that they can be defeated and that relatively weak organics like you were a large part of that has given hope to a lot of species who live in Decepticon bondage."

"You consider us weak?" Thomas asked with offense in his voice.

"Physically, yes. In most other areas, no," Ratchet clarified.

"Really," Thomas said not mollified a bit.

"Unless you can find someone among your own kind that can pick up a city bus and toss it I doubt that you can make a claim that you’re stronger than we are. Some things are evident, Senator, even if you don't want them to be."

"You’re a soldier," Thomas stated, "and have been at war for generations of time according to your own comments. Why should we ally ourselves to a group that can't seem to win a war?"

"Because you need us. Because you can't defeat them without us. We’re a good team, your soldiers and ours. I’d also suggest that your country has some small knowledge of wars you couldn't win."

It was silent a moment then he continued. "If you hadn't been here then none of this would have happened."

"The Allspark landed here and so did Megatron. If we hadn’t arrived here to find the Allspark, something you had no understanding about even though you had it for about eighty years would have at some point gotten free. You would’ve made a mistake and Megatron would’ve found the Allspark in the room next door to where he’d been trapped for decades. With the Allspark he would’ve laid waste to your world and you would’ve been helpless to stop him."

"This Allspark," Thomas began changing the subject. "Tell us about it. What’s its purpose? Is it an idol? Is it your god? Do you even **have a god**?"

Ratchet considered his remarks. "We don’t discuss religion outside of our species," he began as he considered what he should say about the Allspark considering its true purpose couldn’t be known by the humans. "The Allspark was an icon, a symbol of our people that conferred great honor, prestige and power. Megatron tried to take It and use It for his own purposes committing a terrible sacrilege. Our Prime jettisoned It and It was lost to us forever it seemed until the trail led to this planet. We cannot discuss It further than that. Suffice it to say the Decepticons would have killed every man, woman and child on this planet to get It back."

"And the Autobots?" he asked. "What would **you** have done?"

"You infer that we’re alike, the Decepticons and the Autobots. The Allspark was protected by the Prime and It was part of his prestige. To save It, our world and the greater universe from Megatron taking It and assuming Its power Prime jettisoned It into space at a very great cost to our people and our world. It hurt us almost mortally to lose It. We came to find it and rescue It for our people and our planet, Cybertron. We wouldn't destroy or harm to get It back. It’s not the Autobot way. Ask a Decepticon. They’ll tell you the same thing. They consider us soft because we don't kill to get what we need or want."

"Is that so," Thomas asked, his sarcasm apparent.

"Yes, it is so," Ratchet replied evenly. "Unless you didn't read the reports about the Decepticon attacks in Egypt."

Thomas glared at him and then went to the next item on his list. "Tell me how you reproduce," he said sitting back in his chair. "Tell us how that little one … that sparkling came about."

Ratchet could feel even Prowl bristle beside him.

  
  


Chapter 142

  
  


-0-Ops Center, Diego Garcia

"Oh frag," Ironhide said. "He's going to have to give them the nuts and bolts lecture." He grinned at Prime who was grinning as well in spite of himself.

"Or the spikes and valves lecture, the plug and play or hard jacking lecture, the spark merging lecture, the Allspark or budding or Vector Sigma or Creation Matrix lecture or the 'found it by the side of the road' lecture, or 'the high grade made me do it' lecture, or the 'is that how you do it? **Really!** ' lecture," Prime said.

"How about the ' **Ironhide is the mech!** 'lecture? He can speak to that one first hand," Ironhide said smiling smugly as he looked at his sparkling.

"I want to hear that one, too. Maybe he will use your 'face life as an example of how we 'do it'," Prime said chuckling at Ironhide as his face fell.

Ironhide looking up at the screen winced. "Better not."

"No 'sexy doctor and the mom van' stories? No 'Two Moons Over Cybertron'?"

"You read that one, too?" Ironhide asked glancing at him with a smirk.

"How could I not? I am the hero," Prime said smugly. "Ten foot prong and you on your hands and knees. Sounds about right to me."

Ironhide snorted. "I never did get on top in that one," he said. "I saw one that Ratchet’s writing on the same website. It's actually called 'The Sexy Doctor and the Mom Van' and it has Bumblebee and Wheeljack together."

"Better not show it to Perceptor," Prime said. He grinned broadly. "Tell me more. If you dare."

"Well, Wheeljack 'got blowed up' or so Ratchet had me saying."

"Got blowed up." Prime laughed out loud. "That is funny."

"I thought so. Must be my delivery," Ironhide said with a smirk. "Anyway I'm too scared to go into the burning building where Wheeljack is and get him out so he does it himself and sends me to tell 'Jack's little missus, Bumblebee."

Prime chuckled. "This is getting better. More."

"I go get him in the Ark. Apparently we crashed or landed here or something. I don't know how that fits. But I get him in the Ark and he comes out with his chassis hanging between his knees he has so many sparklings in him."

"Oh Primus," Prime said laughing loudly. "Ratchet is deeply disturbed."

"You don't have to tell me. I know," Ironhide said. "Bee says he's coming and he sort of rattles himself into a yellow mini van and takes off driving about eighty inside the Ark. And the part that's funny is Ratchet says there's a sparkling staring out of every window."

Prime burst into laughter drawing the attention of everyone in the room. He glanced at Ironhide as he tried to stifle himself. "What happens next?"

"He drives off and I look at him like I'm going to purge. I say, "I may be a mom van but at least I have the decency to have tinted windows."

Prime looked at Ironhide a moment, then burst into laughter. He laughed for a moment or two then settled as the hearing was going to pick up again. "I want to read this when he is done. I hope I am in it."

"I'm sure you are," Ironhide said grinning with a bit of pride over his Only One's literary skills. "I’ll make sure you get access."

Prime nodded the turned back to the hearings with a smile on his face.

-0-The hearings

"Senator, we don’t talk about personal matters in public and outside the confines of our species. You’re not the first to ask us this but you’re also not the first to hear that we can’t accommodate your request."

"You tell us you're a doctor," Thomas said. "Who better to discuss this topic than a doctor?"

"Logically, that’s true," Ratchet said as he ignored a snarky internal comment from Prowl about logic and this particular Senator. Smiling slightly anyway, he continued. "One of the things you learn in extended conflict is that the less your enemy knows about you the more secure you are in the long run."

"Do you consider us the enemy?" Thomas asked glancing up sharply from his list of questions.

"No," Ratchet said. "But our regulations are in place because they work and have worked in other places where the 'other' **was** our enemy. We keep our privacy private in the matters and issues that are important to us and have no bearing on our ability to fight and support our allies. It should be enough that I’m sitting here talking to you as a sentient being who comes from a race that can reproduce itself and continue."

"We have our own ideas about such things. We believe that we come from God and that all life begins at conception. What I don't understand is how a machine can have infants."

"I’m not a machine," Ratchet said patiently. "I’m a being whose basis is mechanical, metallic as yours is organic. It is the way we developed in the conditions of our world, the same as you here. But I assure you I’m no more a machine than your computer is a Cybertronian. Your computer **is** a machine. It does what its told but it cannot formulate thoughts independent of a user. It cannot reproduce itself, it cannot feel and dream. All the sentience that you take for granted as an organic life form other species such as mine also possess. We’re as alive and living as you are."

"But you’re mechanical. How can you feel? If I touch you how can you feel that?" Thomas asked seriously.

Ratchet getting that he was serious answered gently. "You have nerve receptors in your body that tell you when you touch and feel. We have senors. They’re as small and intricate, perhaps even more so than the organic ones you possess. I can smell with a greater degree of accuracy than a canine who possesses a capability one million times greater than you. I can see for miles and tell you intricate information about what I view. I can hear for great distances and have to constantly dial down my audial capacity to give others their privacy. All these things make me who I am. When you touch me I feel it."

"Yet you reproduce. That infant was a product of what?"

Ratchet considered his demeanor, his vocal inflection, the bodily functions of his glands and the temperature of his skin. He scanned him from head to toe, the lightest setting possible so the human wouldn't feel or see it. He got that Thomas had shifted to genuine interest and so he began. "That child as you call it, that sparkling is the end product of love the way that your own children were. That sparkling has genitors that wished for him and love him with the same pride and intensity as any human would their own babies. He’s the product of a natural process that I cannot tell you about but it didn’t require a workshop or any outside agency. He’s not crafted or put together according to some blueprint anymore than you are. It didn’t require anything more than longing and hope. Just as it does with anyone wanting a child of their own, he came about according to the natural processes of our species."

"You’ve said that you haven't seen an infant in literally eons. And now this sparkling is here," he began. "How did it come to you? Was it a refugee?"

"We’re all refugees, Mr. Thomas. All of us," Ratchet said as the image of his little sparkling filled his processor. "Everyone one of us Autobots are refugees. That infant is a the child of a refugee and if meaning he’s not on his home world now, then I guess he is as well. But he’s so beloved and wanted and loved. I wish I could tell you how much it hurts us that our babies, our little ones are mocked and made fun of. They’re our future and the best part of us. Its the same with you, is it not?"

Thomas looked at Ratchet considering him for a moment. "When you say that the Decepticons won't leave even if you do, is that correct?"

Ratchet nodded. "Yes, I’m correct. We’ve never seen them do otherwise over the course of a nine million year war. Not on Cybertron. Not anywhere else."

"You track them, you find them, you work with our soldiers?" he asked.

"We do," Ratchet said looking back at Lennox and Morshower. He looked back at Thomas. "You should be very proud of them. This foe is merciless and enormously beyond the capacity most of you have to fight them one-on-one. Yet they walk forward into the battle and make us all proud of them. They’re our brothers-in-arms, Mr. Thomas. We love them."

Thomas nodded, then looked at his time. He then handed off the questioning to Weaver. "I believe I’ve used all my time, Mr. Chairman."

Weaver looking at him strangely, nodded. "Very well. I do believe that after my questions you’ll be given time to sum up for us the reason we should continue to associate through treaties and other agreements with the Autobots, Mr. Ambassador."

Ratchet nodded as he gathered himself for Weaver.

-0-Ops Center, Autobot City, Mars

"This Weaver … he's a fragging aft head," Starscream said. His expression showed great distaste.

Magnus nodded. "I won't disagree."

"Ratchet will dispatch him," Starscream said assuredly. "Not like I would. He’d be a smoking hole in the ground if I were the Ambassador."

Magnus grinned slightly as he glanced at the Seeker. "I will pass that on to Prime."

"Good," Starscream said with a smirk as his gaze focused on the screen. "Please do."

-0-Ops Center, Diego Garcia

"Here it comes," Prime said.

"Ratchet will chop him into little tiny pieces," Red Alert said turning to glance at everyone there as he sat at Security with various jacks plugged into him. He never paused in his vigilance even then.

Prime smiled.

-0-The Hearing

"Mr. Ambassador, you’ve made a great show of your young people and your solidarity with our soldiers which I’ll take at face value. I’ve had other reports about Autobot ill treatment of the soldiers in N.E.S.T.," Weaver began. He didn't get much farther before someone took umbrage at his remarks.

" **HEY**!" Will Lennox rose from his seat in the front row. "What are you **talking** about! I’m field ops commander of the soldiers and have a hand in every single soldier and their disposition on our team! If you have any **proof** to what you just said **put it on the table**!"

Ratchet and Prowl who were startled by the outburst looked at Lennox who was standing in the audience quivering with outrage next to General Morshower who looked to put it simply none too pleased himself.

Weaver gaveling fiercely shouted for them to sit. Ratchet turned back to raise his own objection. "You’ve made objections about the treatment you say soldiers receive in the N.E.S.T. garrison by the Autobots. Since Major Lennox **is** the field ops commander and General Morshower the overall mission commander in tandem with Optimus Prime, you’re calling into question not only **their** professionalism but their personal integrity. I expected, Mr. Weaver, that you’d do that with us. But to vilify **your own soldiers**? What sort of patriot and all around military lover are you?"

It was quiet a moment. Then Ratchet continued. "Put the facts on the table or remove your statement and apologize to General Morshower and Major Lennox. I relieve you of the burden of apologizing to our soldiers. I know you won't."

"I stand by my statements." Weaver looked at Ratchet with rage filled eyes. "I don't retract a word."

The room murmured and there were boos here and there.

Then Ratchet leaned forward, too. "I’d like for Major Lennox and General Morshower to address your charges. Then I would add my own response to your remarks."

"No way," Weaver spit back.

"Then we can have our say on the steps outside. Rest assured, Mr. Weaver, your mocking and defamation of your country's best soldiers won’t go unaddressed," Ratchet said quietly. "I **promise** you that."

Weaver glared at for a moment, his emotions clear on his face, then he leaned back. "Lennox can speak."

" **Major** Lennox," Ratchet corrected as his voice betrayed his anger. He looked at Lennox then nodded.

Will who glanced at Morshower walked down the aisle toward Ratchet and Prowl. He paused beside them, both of whom dwarfed him. He looked at the committee for a moment, then Weaver. "I’m Major Will Lennox who commands the Alpha Striker Teams that are garrisoned with the Autobots and who work and train with them to protect Earth against a terrible merciless enemy. I want to know what you’re **specifically talking about** because I’ll tell you now **anything** you have to say about bad treatment of my soldiers by either us or the Autobots is **bullshit**."

The room erupted.

-0-Ops Center, Diego Garcia

"I think I love me some Will Lennox," Ironhide said grinning at Prime.

"I would not have said it that way. That is why I am glad he is speaking and not me. I love me some Lennox, too," Prime said with a chuckle.

"I'll let him know," Ironhide replied with a snort.

"Please do," Prime replied.

-0-Ops Center, Autobot City, Mars

When the cheering all around the facility died down, Starscream smiled. "I like this organic. One out of seven billion. There's hope for them. Maybe."

Magnus snickered. Down deep in the places even he didn’t go, it would have surprised Starscream how much Magnus agreed with him over that sentiment.

-0-The Hearing

When the cheering, stomping of feet and wild whooping died down, Weaver looked at Lennox. "That’s conduct **unbecoming** to a **soldier** , **Major**."

"What would **you** know about soldiers? Have you **ever** served anything but yourself?" Will asked. His rage was unabated.

Thunderous applause erupted both here, other places all over Earth and at a city on Mars. Then it died down.

Lennox was enraged, his fists were balled and his body taut with unreleased violence. "We serve together with pride and with great personal admiration for each other as individuals and as professional soldiers. **There isn't a day** that goes by that I don't learn something new about my profession from the Autobots. They’re my **brothers** **and sisters**."

The room erupted again and then subsided, the energy in the room nearly crackling amongst the participants and spectators.

Lennox swallowed hard, well aware that his career was a crap shoot now. "We’ve fought together in all kinds of conditions, against foes you can't **imagine**. I don't even **want** to **think** about what it would be like to fight the Decepticons without the Autobots. You can't find a **better group** of soldiers, a **finer group** of individuals, a **braver group** of fighting mechs, femmes and men than you will in N.E.S.T. through the Combined Forces. I’m **proud** to be their field commander. I wish you could **know** them. I wish you could **see** their bravery. They fight for **all** of us. They don't have to but they **do**. I **admire** them, I **love** them. I admire their leadership, Optimus Prime, Ironhide, **all of them**. **Who the hell do you think you are** , Weaver, to make anonymous unsubstantiated charges against them and against us?"

"I'm not **talking** about **you** , Major Lennox," Weaver began.

"When you talk about the Autobots, Weaver, you are talking about **us**. Either tell **us** what you are talking about specifically, tell us names, dates and places or pull your remarks. **Now**!"

The room was electric, a charged and emotional atmosphere as thick as a fog engulfed the everyone there and Weaver faced it alone. The allies on the committee were looking at him or their hands as none of them stepped up to help him.

Thomas, the Senator from Montana was shaking his head, then he leaned forward. "I would like to hear the charges, too. Details, Mr. Weaver, if you may."

A murmur of agreement flashed through the room as Weaver sat looking at everyone for a moment. Then he nodded. "I will then."

-0-Ops Center, Diego Garcia

"Here we go," Prime said.

"Anyone take a bet that its Hedges and Johnson?" Ironhide asked.

"Not on your spark," Prime said.

-0-Ops Center, Autobot City, Mars

"I’d like you to tell Prime, Magnus, that if he wants to rid himself of an annoying squishy I volunteer."

Magnus smiled. "You might have to stand in line, Starscream."

It was Starscream's turn to smile.

Chapter 143

  
  


-0-The Hearings

Will Lennox moved over to stand beside Prowl and he was joined by General Morshower. Together, the four of them faced Beau Weaver who was flipping through his thick notebook.

Ratchet looked down at the agitated soldiers and smiled. They relaxed only slightly as they dealt with their irritation. Ratchet reached out to pick up their two chairs in his servo, then raise them out of the audience. He then set them down so the soldiers could sit.

The room chuckled, the idea of the normal sized human furniture being but toys in the hands of such big creatures was an amusing and welcomed juxtaposition.

Then Weaver began. "Earlier this year, two soldiers named Johnson and Hedges were members of the N.E.S.T. team. They were accosted by two of the Autobots on base, someone named Sideswipe and Sunstreaker. They were made to feel in danger of their lives and they were attacked. Not only did you, Major Lennox not protect them, you sided with the Autobots and made them confront their attackers. You put them willingly into harms way."

" ** That's bullshit ** ," Lennox replied angrily. 

The room murmured and there was clapping and whistling.

Weaver gaveled as he glared at the crowd. "That's enough of that." He turned to Lennox. "Is that all you have to say?"

"No," Lennox said rising from his chair in his agitation "Those two lied about what happened."

"Then please," Weaver said leaning back in his chair. "Enlighten us."

Ratchet watched him then put a call through to Sunstreaker and Sideswipe, Ironhide, First Aid and Bluestreak. While Lennox was defending himself Ratchet was doing the same thing.

"Our soldiers are trained to be a team. Those two were trainees trying to make a striker team but they weren't working out. They were making themselves disposable."

"What do you mean?" Weaver asked leaning forward.

"They were mocking the Autobots behind their backs. They were mocking them personally, their lifestyle and their relationships, undermining team cohesiveness and making humans look like bastards and bigots.  They didn’t learn who they were as individuals nor did they treat them with respect when they were with them in exercises as everyone is expected to do to build team cohesion.  They weren’t even trying to attempt to understand them, to accept that there’ s things about them that are different, that they even  ** were ** aliens. They made a dangerous divide with their bigoted behavior and when it got too much for one of the Autobots to take he came peacefully to the barracks to talk to them about it."

Ratchet got what he wanted, then drew Prime and Prowl into an offline examination of what he’d gotten and whether it would help or hinder the moment at hand.

"They hid like little cowards in the barracks and wouldn't come out."

"If two twenty-five foot killing machines were after me I’d be hiding, too," Weaver said.

"You might. I wouldn't. I didn't. Not me, not Sergeant Epps, not Lieutenant Graham  who constitute the command team for all striker units appended to the Autobot brief . We didn't hide. We went into the barracks and told them that they were through but before they’d leave they had to go out and help us mend the hole in our solidarity that their bigotry had made. They  refused to do it but they did when I told them to go out there and man up. We patched it up. No thanks to them and their bullshit attitudes and judgments. We’re one with the Autobots in  ** spite ** of their actions and attitudes."

"You made them face these  ** dangerous killers ** ," Weaver said motioning to an aide. The  aide pulled a large picture out and walked to an easel behind the senator. Placing it on the easel, everyone could see the Lambos, both of them blasting along the tarmac,  their sword tips peeping out of wrist sheaths, their looks of satisfaction and their beauty frightening and alien. "These are the Autobots that came to kill those two men."

"Are you  ** nuts ** ?" Lennox said. " ** Look at them ** . If Sideswipe and Sunstreaker had wanted them dead, if they’d gone there to kill  or do harm to them do you think they’d be alive now to lie about what happened?"

The room erupted.

Weaver gaveled.

Lennox quivered with outrage.

Ratchet sat armed, locked and loaded.

Prowl allowed a tiny smile.

Starscream reached for his null ray gun. He frowned. Then he remembered it was gone. Then he smiled. This was entertaining.

"I think we've heard all we need to hear from you, Major Lennox," Weaver said dismissively.

The room booed, a couple of people clapped and were shouted down.

Weaver looked at Ratchet. “I suppose you have something to add?"

"I do," Ratchet said. "By the way, those two are what we call in our army 'front-liners'. They’re two of the most feared warriors in the entire Autobot Army. They find it entertaining to jump onto the backs of Seekers, the Decepticon flying warriors and play what they call 'jet judo'. The Seekers fear them deeply."

-0-Ops Center, Autobot City, Mars

Starscream snorted. "Fraggers. Insane fraggers, those two."

It was Magnus' turn to smile.

-0-The Hearings

"If they wanted to kill you, you’d be dead. If you walk away from an encounter with them it's because they **let** you. I’d also like to say two things, Mr. Weaver, before I present irrefutable evidence of this encounter. First, that likeness doesn't do them justice. Their beauty is well known among all who see them. Secondly, they’re mine, my sons. I’m one of their adopted parents and I don't appreciate you exploiting **my** sons for any reason whatsoever. If anyone understands them well, its me. I **tell** you, if they wanted those two dead, if they’d come there for any other reason than to just talk they would be dead. As for the evidence, if you would direct your attention to the blank space at the end of the panel."

"What are you doing?" Weaver asked, immediately defensive.

"I'm going to 'run the video' as you’re so wont to say. We told our soldiers to stay away from harassers but we also in that protocol ask them to film any encounters so that we can present evidence should a moment like this arise. I have the evidence from Sunstreaker, from Sideswipe and from all the others who showed up including both me and Prowl. All of the video is in English which is what we speak around the soldiers at all times unless other languages are in order. The N.E.S.T. program is multi cultural and national."

"I don't give you permission to show it."

The room erupted again. On the screens, commentators already agreeing that the hearing was a fiasco bemoaned as only they could the bias and ineptitude of the Senator from the Great State of Texas.

In Ops Centers all over this world and another one laughter was heard on all sides.

Weaver finally gaveled the room silent.

"I’m going to play this video either here or outside, Senator.  ** You ** made this an issue. You can’t pick and choose the evidence you’ll allow to be shown to directly address your accusations  or you’ll look like a charlatan and a fool ," Ratchet said quietly.

Weaver who was staring blankly at him tossed his pen down before him. "By all means," he said his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Ratchet tur ned toward the wall, then  touched his helm.  A n image appeared solidifying  into a very clear picture . It was a barracks and the viewpoint was Sunstreaker's  as the subtitles indicated . He rolled to the barracks and as he got closer one who was outside  began to hurr y inside  with Sunstreaker's words ringing in his ears. "I want to see Hedges and Johnson! Send those two fraggers out!  ** NOW ** !"

The scene was one of movements, the line of sight never leaving the barracks proper even as the body watching turned in a tight continuous circle The door opened and a soldier, Arne Feltman stepped out. "Hey, Sunstreaker? What's up?" they heard him say. Nothing in his body language suggested worry or fear.

The viewpoint lowered coming more even with Feltman. "I want to speak with Hedges and Johnson. I hear they're saying slag about us and our culture behind our backs. I want them to tell me to my face."

Feltman nodded. The point of view glanced upward to the barracks then back to Feltman. The point of view changed as whoever was watching Feltman looked back to see the figure of the red Lambo rolling toward them swiftly. The point of view raised up to take in the other, himself a fiercesome image of pointed finials and danger.

“Sunny, what are you doing?" that red one asked in a low voice in perfect English.

"I found out who the fraggers are who are slagging us, Sideswipe. I want them to come out and talk to us," the point of view said. Then it changed. The speaker became the watched and the one called Sideswipe was viewing. Sunstreaker was his mirror image in a luminous yellow and black though their finials were different. His optics were filled with rage but his temper was under control.

They stood rolled in circles around each other, talking together in Cybertronian, all of it subtitled. The discussion was the insult felt, the desire to see the faces of such bigots and to have them understand that slagging was anathema.

Then Lennox appeared running as fast as he could. They bantered with him when he arrived out of breath and showing it. "You calling me a wimp?" he said with a grin.

"Yes," the two bots said together.

Then Feltman appeared in Sideswipe's view and said, "Sunstreaker wants to speak with Jim Johnson."

The view focused on Lennox. "Why do you want to speak with our guys, Sunstreaker? I gotta know as their commanding officer."

Then the viewpoint, obviously still the red Lambo, focused on Sunstreaker. "I hear rumors, Lennox." His low guttural voice sounded frightening.

Lennox: "What kind of rumors, Sunstreaker? Maybe I can help you."

The yellow Lambo stared at the barracks sheathing and unsheathing his swords. Some of the faces in the window staring out moved back. He grinned savagely then turned to Lennox who stood unafraid before him, a tiny figure all in all.

Sunstreaker who was rolling around the little group, his face never turning away from the barracks then paused to look down at Lennox: "Maybe. Maybe not."

The point of view, Sideswipe, could be heard speaking in the same voice but with a lighter tone: "There’s rumors that some of your soldiers are talking slag about us behind our backs. "Some of them are talking slag about our relationships and us in general. We don't like it, Will."

Then the view turned to spot Epps running to them, also out of breath.

He spoke: "What's going on?" He listened silently as Lennox filled him in, the situation tense and emotional. The two looked at both bots.

Lennox spoke: "Who are the soldiers? Do you know?"

The bot named Sunstreaker replied: "Some fraggers called Johnson and Hedges. "I don't like them, Will. We're fraggin'  ** front-liners ** ,  ** warriors  ** and  ** all  ** of our side are the same kind. We don't  ** need ** some little  ** meat sacks ** slaggin' us behind our backs,  ** running down  ** what we can do and what we are. I don't think I  ** need to hear  ** about some puny little fraggers slagging our species when we're  ** bleeding  ** and getting  ** slagged  ** protecting this little marble. We get  ** enough of that slag  ** from Galloway." His expression was ferocious. The viewpoint must have agreed because the visual feed bobbed up and down.

Prowl glanced around. Everyone including Weaver was entranced and enthralled with the visual. He then watched himself, remembering that day like it was yesterday.

Lennox listened, nodding at the commentary. Then he spoke: "No you don't, Sunny. If you’d let me I'd like to take care of it. I'll do that because I agree with you and I apologize for any offense that you and the others might feel."

Sunstreaker was not having it. He said, "I'd like them to come out first. I want to see their faces when they know that  ** we ** know. I want them to tell us to our faces that they think we're lesser beings."-

The point of view, Sideswipe spoke: "Will will take care of it, Sunny."

Sunstreaker shook his head and replied: "I want to  ** see ** them."

Then Lennox bowing to the inevitable spoke: "If we bring them out is there going to be anything I have to worry about here? Is there going to be a fight, Sunny, because if there is I can't allow it." Lennox looked tense but sounded relaxed in his manner. He spoke calmly but his eyes never left Sunstreaker.

The yellow Autobot frowned a s he shook his helm. "Do you think I’d ** kill him ** ? If that was my goal yo u’ d still be searching for his parts."

Lennox looked at the point of view, Sideswipe who nodded ever so slightly. Then he spoke again: "All right. I'll get them. Wait here."

Then he and Epps disappeared into the barracks.

At this point the view turned backwards as two more bots could be seen coming toward them, a tall black and white bot with mech wings and a dark chevron on their head who would be Bluestreak and a white and red one with medical markings. That would be a Protectobot, First Aid who was chasing Bluestreak who himself was limping. They connected and talked for a moment in Cybertronian which was subtitled in English again. The conversation was about what was going on, that the soldiers were there and general disbelief and disappointment in the soldiers for slagging them.

Then the door opened as Epps, Lennox, Graham and two terribly frightened but rigid soldiers joined Feltman once again.

They gathered around Lennox who spoke: "I have them here and they’re prepared to not only listen to whatever you wish to say about their actions, they’re going to personally apologize to you before they ship out."

The point of view, Sideswipe spoke: "Ship out?"

Lennox nodded and spoke: "They’re going to be leaving N.E.S.T. We hold our alliance with you and the Autobots in the highest regard. We won't allow anything to sully that, no way, no how."

Sunstreaker bracing his seven foot long sword tips in the concrete considered that. He spoke: "A good partial solution."

The new soldier, Lt. Graham spoke: "The only one for us. We’re all for one or you're out."

The point of view nodded. Then he spoke with approval in his voice: "Till all are one. That's what it has to be.

The yellow bot  thought  a moment then spoke, his voice harsh and angry: "I want you to tell us just what we’ve heard you saying here and there among the meat sacks. I want to  ** hear ** your insults to our warriors and our way of life."

The point of view interjected: "Who is this Johnson and Hedges?"

Lennox, angry and firm in his expression and demeanor turned to the two rigid men, then spoke: "Johnson and Hedges. Front and center."

The two hesitated then stepped forward to stand at rigid attention, their eyes forward.

"Talk," Lennox said standing at parade rest, his acute embarrassment evident.

** "*Sir*,  ** I respectfully decline to speak,  ** *sir*,"  ** Johnson said. 

Hedges himself rigid with fear repeated the same remarks.

Lennox who was caught off guard whirled on them and demanded that they speak. They declined together again.

At that point the viewpoint changed to another farther away. The clarity was crystal and the audio perfection but all the players could be seen including a huge black Autobot and another one with wings which everyone in the room recognized as Prowl. They were hurrying to catch up. Behind the crowd at the barrack’s door, the soldiers inside standing at the windows were waving their arms trying to alert Lennox, Epps and Graham to more Autobots coming.

The point of view was Ratchet's and he would remain the main point of view for the rest of the film. Sunstreaker, surprised, turned to Bluestreak, the new winged Autobot.

That Autobot was afraid and spoke: "Sunny, what's going on? Is there going to be trouble?"

Sunstreaker pulled Bluestreak close and spoke angrily: "A couple of these organic fraggers have a problem with us and our way of life. They think they can slag you and me, Blue."

The bot designated Bluestreak turned toward the soldiers and spoke: "You do?" His voice sounded hurt.

Several soldiers assured him no they didn't. It was the two standing rigidly on the porch.

Then Lennox spoke: "No. Not the soldiers who were on the last operation. Two slaggers who are going to be leaving here as soon as they apologize."

They, of course, refused a direct order. Again.

By this time Prowl reached the mix just behind Ironhide, Bluestreak and First Aid.

There was a lot of conversation going on at the same time:

Sideswipe to Sunstreaker: "They're going, Sunny."

Sunstreaker to Sideswipe: "They slagged Blue, Sides. They slagged him and Ratchet and the others."

Then the black Autobot, Ironhide spoke: "I want to talk to you, Lennox. I want to know what you’re going to do about the slagging they gave Ratchet."

At this point Prowl walked between the soldiers and the Autobots giving them a withering stare. Two stepped backward but Sunstreaker didn't. They tugged on his arm, the winger speaking: "Come on, Sunny. Let's step back and let Prowl sort this out."

Sunstreaker shook his head and spoke: "Prowl? He's one of the targets. Prowl and Prime."

A gasp in the room greeted that. Prowl sat as impassive as a sphinx on the bench with Ratchet even though his bond link with Prime was burning up off line.

Then Prowl, a target of their hate spoke: "Step back and calm down. We'll solve this peacefully."

Sunstreaker interjected: "They mocked you and  ** *Prime*,  ** Prowl. They mocked  ** us ** , they mocked  ** you and Prime  ** and they mocked Ratchet. Maybe you don't mind but ** I ** do."

Then the point of view jolted and a voice, a familiar ambassadorial voice spoke: " ** Who mocked me, the slaggers ** ?"

A ripple of laughter greeted that affronted tone and even Ratchet had to smile.

Then the big black Autobot was seen and he spoke: "I want to discuss that. I don't appreciate bond being made a joke."

And the cat was out of the bag.

The point of view, testy sounding, spoke: "Who's a slagging joke? What the ** frag ** is going on here?"

Then Prowl stepped forward, hands seen placating. He spoke: "Everyone stand down."

But everyone was still angry and a number of them began to speak:

Sunstreaker: "I want to know what you're going to do. I don't appreciate Bluestreak being slagged. Or our life. Or the idea that who we’re with is a big joke to someone else. Who the frag are  ** they ** to criticize  ** us ** ? We’re here helping them against the fraggin' Decepticons and  ** this is the thanks we get ** ?"

Prowl tried again but it wasn’t flying.

Sideswipe turned to Sunstreaker. "Sunny, they’re going to be sent away."

Sunstreaker arguing with his twin was not placated: " ** So what ** ? The damage is done. They all heard the jokes, they all heard the slag. How are we supposed to trust them in combat?"

Then the white and red physician-looking bot, First Aid spoke, "I agree," then shyly stepped back into the crowd surprised at himself for speaking.

The point of view, Ratchet defended the physician bot's remark: "I agree too. How are we supposed to trust the soldiers if they think we're a joke? And why the frag do you find us so damned funny?"

Prowl who was seen turning in circles finally gave up and the whole gigantic group turned to the soldiers silently. After a bit of fumbling amongst themselves Lennox stepped forward and spoke from his heart: "I'm sorry. I don't know why. I don't know why some of our  ** own people  ** hate others of  ** our own people  ** for things that don't matter. I would hope after all that we've been through that you would know how much we appreciate and respect you. I and the two others of us here know what you do and we care about you and your well being. I apologize for what's happened and we’ll do our best to repair the relationship, first by cutting our loses with the main offenders." Graham and Epps nodded in agreement.

There was a pause. Then the yellow Lambo spoke: "That's a start. But what about the rest of you? How many of the rest of you feel the same way? I'm not going to apologize or be embarrassed about me and Blue. We're together and we'll stay together and if you don't like it frag off."

Then more story came out:

Ironhide: "This whole mess started when those two slagged Ratchet." He pointed to the two rigidly attentive soldiers, Hedges and Johnson.

Ratchet: " ** What ** ?  ** You never told me that ** ?'

Ironhide: "Why would I tell you that? You don't need to know that sort of thing."

Ratchet: " ** Why not ** ? What if I'm supposed to  ** fight with these two idiots ** ? How can I know they think I'm pit spawn and how can I know they will cover me under fire?"

Then Ironhide turned to the soldiers and spoke: "That's the problem. I came here to discuss that. I don't appreciate Ratchet being a joke to anyone let alone someone I'm supposed to trust on the battlefield."

It was dead silent in the auditorium as the video rolled on.

  
  


Chapter 144

  
  


-0-At the hearing

Then Ironhide turned to the soldiers and spoke: "That's the problem. I came here to discuss that. I don't appreciate Ratchet being a joke to anyone let alone someone I'm supposed to trust on the battlefield."

It was dead silent in the auditorium as the video rolled on.

Then Sideswipe rolled into frame shaking his head  with disgust . He spoke: "Look at us. We're not you. We're  ** us ** . This is who we are supposed to be and we act like we're supposed to act. We come from a different world. We're fraggin' metallic for Primus sake! We don't have too many of your ways but most of us have learned as much as we can … some of us anyway." He glanced with a smirk at the yellow Lambo. Then he continued. "We did it so we can be a team because that’s how we know we can stay alive and win. We've been a team for each other for longer than you can imagine. We  ** deserve ** respect and if you can't accept how we are, especially the personal relationships some of us have because this is what we truly are, imagine how we feel about some of  ** your ** slag? But I hope you noticed that we haven't dumped on you or let it affect us in combat. No matter what slag you think you know about us know that we  ** are ** professionals."

Everyone  was silent, then Lennox spoke: "You and us, we're brothers-in-arms. I felt it from the beginning. I would hope you understand that holds even now. The three of us, we stay here because we  ** want ** to work with you, because we respect you and even more, we care about and like you. I’m sorry for the stupidity of a few. I don't want the relationship that we’ve built up in blood and effort to be compromised. That’s why these two are taking the next plane out of here."

Sunstreaker spoke again: "And the others? The soldiers who listened and heard their slag?"

Graham spoke up. " ** We personally ** will take care of that."

Then Prowl asserted himself again: "Very well. We can talk further about how we can span this rift and build a closer relationship between you and us. We understand how alien we must be in some regards but that’s a two way street."

Lennox looked deeply relieved  then spoke: "Thank you, Prowl. We look forward to it. Right now these two are out of here." Lennox turned to Hedges and Johnson and spoke to them: "Get packing.  ** Now ** ."

The two were shown walking stiffly into the building, the hoots of the Lambos following them.

Lennox then looked up to stare into the faces of the others and spoke: "Can we do anything more now or are we okay?"

Then the point of view, the Senior Autobot Ambassador to All and Sundry Nations a s well as Planets of the Galaxy and Beyond spoke  as he stepp ed out from behind the big black Autobot: "There  ** *is* ** something else. I want to know what some slagger said about me."

The room erupted in laughter and they almost didn't get the black Autobot's remark: "Oh, Primus."

Then Prowl called "Truce!" shooing everyone away. He walked to kneel with the soldiers to talk and wrap things up. It was at this point the video feed ended.

Ratchet turned to face Weaver and the committee. "As you can see, Senator, there’s the soldier's 'truth' and there’s the  ** actual ** truth."

No one spoke for several seconds.

Then Senator Thomas leaned forward. "I don't  ** have ** anymore questions. Do  ** you ** , Senator Weaver?"

Weaver staring at Ratchet with an unreadable expression shook his head. "Ambassador, we’re only as good as the information we get," he said quietly.

"You might try reading some once in a while," Ratchet replied slightly testily. "Are we free to go or do I get my thirty minutes to try and save you from yourself?"

Weaver flushed. "There’s some of us that genuinely believe you leaving is the best option to our security."

Ratchet shook his head. "We know some of those, too, in our long experience. All of them are now dead worlds."

The room was hushed then Hoxley leaned forward. "I will never agree to sever the agreements and treaties. I don't think our committee is interested in this line of inquiry any further. Am I correct in assessing this point of view?" She looked up and down counting the nods of yes until she had a bulletproof majority in any votes Weaver and his coalition might force. She smiled at Ratchet. "I do believe, Mr. Ambassador, that you’re free to go with our support and appreciation. I don't think I'm out of line in sending our best regards to your Prime and your soldiers."

Ratchet nodded. "Thank you, Madam Senator. I will personally relay them to our Prime. You know you have them in return."

Everyone glanced at Weaver who was staring at the Autobots. Then he raised his gavel and hit the table. "Adjourned," was all he said.

The place exploded in noise, applause, shouts and stomping.

-0-In a quiet moment outside of the arena

Andrea Hoxley sat in the cab of Ratchet's search and rescue hummer. She’d asked to speak to him and entered the truck with a bit of excitement to settle into the best seats she had or ever would experience with a vehicle. She sat a moment and felt foolish a moment. "Hello, Senator Hoxley."

Ratchet's voice came out of the speakers. She startled, then chuckled. "You’re a remarkable individual," she said.

"Thank you. As I said before, we try," Ratchet said with his own chuckle. "I wish to thank you for the help and support you’ve given us over these last few months that we’ve been battling these people. It means a lot and the Prime and all of us call you a friend."

"I'm honored to be your friend, Ambassador," she replied greatly pleased.

"Ratchet," he said. "The formalities are over and we don't usually stand on them unless we have to."

"I hope our alliance hasn't suffered. You know, I get the reports on what you do and I know how dangerous it is. I know what it costs you to be here and help us. I wanted to thank you personally."

"Our fight landed on your doorstep through no fault of your own, Senator," Ratchet said. "We couldn’t go and leave you alone. All the Weavers in the world won’t keep us from helping and protecting you."

"Please tell your Prime that the majority of the committee is pro-Autobot and that we’ll do our best to contain Weaver. I don't believe he helped his cause today."

"No," Ratchet said with a chuckle. "I've been the Autobot's diplomat for more years than I care to admit to and I find today to have been a very bad day for our Beau Weaver."

"I agree," she said. "I wish you to know that the children, the sparklings and younglings, they were precious. I found them to be so precious. The infant, the sparkling with the yellow bands on his arm … he was delightful."

Ratchet felt his spark flutter. "He is as I’m told by his genitor somewhere along the far end of the awesome scale."

Hoxley grinned. "I agree. I’d like to let you know that there’ll be those for whom your relationships fall along the lines of the two soldiers. I want you to be ready for certain criticisms and attitudes. I’ll be vigilant in guarding the interests of both of us, the United States and the Autobots because I believe they coincide. I also find it ridiculous and extremely immature to judge another species of life with our own personal values and judgments. The Senator said that he believes all life is from God and starts at conception. He does not speak for our entire species. We’re a contradictory and young life form. We have a lot of distance to go. You must find us primitive."

"No," Ratchet said a smile in his voice. "You’re young but you’re goodhearted all told. For every Weaver there’s you, Lennox, Epps, Graham and the soldiers that we work with, the civilians and personnel on the base that support our effort. The people in the audience today as well are worthy and appreciated. We’re an old species and have seen a lot of strange and wonderful things. We understand. You mustn't worry."

"That makes me feel better. No one of us speaks for all of us. For every definite point of view like those, there’s twelve others. I thank you for the afternoon. I haven’t been so entertained in a long time. Seeing Beau Weaver fall on his face is a wonderful thing."

Ratchet chuckled. "It’s our honor to entertain you then," he said.

"Please convey our regards and mine in particular to your Prime and all the others and hug that sparkling for me."

"Come to Diego Garcia and hug him yourself," Ratchet suggested.

"You give me wonderful ideas," she said suddenly inspired. "Thank you and take care, Ratchet. Perhaps we shall be seeing you some time."

"I’ll look forward to it," Ratchet said waiting as she climbed down. Then he closed the door and signaled to the N.E.S.T. liaison that they were ready to go. With Bumblebee and Mirage in front, Springer and Jazz behind, the Ambassador of Cybertron, Chief Medical Officer of the Autobot Armed Forces, Senior Autobot Officer on the Prime's personal staff, creator of the luminous and slightly wobbly Orion of Mars, and the personal squeeze toy of Ironhide the Awesome slowly made his way to the airport. A very patient Silverbolt waited to go home to Diego Garcia and soon they would all fly away.

-0-On the way

Lennox sat on his safe seat in the cordoned off section of the hold. He held his Kindle but he wasn't ready to read. Blowing off steam with Bee, Mirage and Springer as Jazz lounged nearby with his music playing internally, he glanced at Ratchet. Walking under the cordon, making his way around Jazz's long legs, he walked to Ratchet to lean against his ped. "You did real good."

"So did you," Ratchet said. "I was proud of you, William."

Lennox blushed. "I have chastising e-mails from my mother. My wife and dad think I'm great, though. Language." He grinned. “You’re always a son of your mother.”

"Best two out of three then," Ratchet said with a chuckle. "You made the difference, your loyalty to us and your support. You, Epps and Graham, we don't thank you enough. We should. You’re our greatest friends. Comrades and brothers, all."

Lennox nodded. "You’re our brothers, too. I hope if no one gets anything else out of this that’s understood. Brothers-in-arms, brothers in all ways."

Ratchet nodded. "I can't wait for Weaver to go to jail."

"You and me both, Ratchet," William said patting Ratchet's ped. Then he wound his way back to settle in the cordoned area and spent his time telling lies with the boys in the back. Ratchet on the other hand considered the pull of home, of his big smoldering mech hunk, the wondrous Ironhide and his wonderful sparkling, Orion. Then he added into his thinking the two other younglings that he’d come to make his own.

Sunstreaker and Sideswipe had stood up not just for Blue that day. They had stood up for them all. It was pure dumb luck that that moment would become so powerful and important to them all.

Ratchet grinned. All-in-all, he was proud of his family. His big old mech. His sparkling and his two younglings. Now all he had to do was arm wrestle Prowl for snugly time with his soon-to-be grandson. The idea of it made him laugh out loud.

-0-Home again, home again, jiggity jig

They came out of the hold where the entire garrison was waiting for them. To one side stood almost all of N.E.S.T. which included soldiers from America, England and all over the world from among the 122 treaty signatory countries. They cheered and clapped, joking and laughing as Ratchet and his companions walked toward Prime.

Ratchet pranced and bowed, coquettishly working the crowd as he preened, posed and ambled toward the Embassy.

Lennox who was sitting on Springer's shoulder held on for dear life as Bumblebee followed carrying his duffel bag. It looked like a tiny doll's purse and he held it like it was a fragile thing.

It was. It held Lennox's Kindle.

By the time they reached Prime, they were hurrahed half to death. Prime hugged Prowl, then hugged Ratchet. Ironhide who was standing beside him with Orion grinned from audial to audial, that is until Ratchet took Orion. A pout formed and he was quickly shamed out of it. Then it all died down.

Prime looked down at a hummer where Colonel Fulton had climbed up onto the hood.

He grinned up at Prime. "Optimus, you don't pay Ratchet enough."

"I do not pay him anything, Colonel," Prime replied as they all burst into laughter. He reached over to pluck Lennox off Springer, putting him down gently on the hummer. He smiled. "Thank you, William, for being a comrade to us."

Lennox nodded. "We are. All of us. They can't know what that's like but we do. Until all are one," he said.

The Autobots and soldiers clapped and laughed, some of them stamping their peds.

"Until all are one," Prime said clapping himself.

The words rang out from all kinds of voices and for a moment they were one, united in relief, united in a cause and united in brotherhood.

Standing off to one side silent and without expression, Jason Daniels and four of his mercs watched silently. They had no idea of what they just saw really meant and they never ever would.

  
  


Chapter 145

  
  


-0-Ops Center, Diego Garcia

The day continued with a lighter step in everyone's footfalls as the threat of at least one of their enemies subsided. The news organizations were all over the hearings dissecting them with verbal scalpels that left the junior Senator from the Great State of Texas in small strips on the floor of his proverbial career. Monitors played all over the base as the soldiers and Autobots basked in the failure of their enemies.

Red Alert who was monitoring the e-mail and phone traffic between major players was happy to report to Prime that Daniels and Galloway who had expected to speak, Galloway in person and Daniels via conference video were livid at the outcome of the hearings and let Weaver know. They hadn’t been called and they let him know how they felt over their lost personal opportunity to be in the public eye.

The burden had been lifted as everyone turned to the details that loomed largely. A mini-con village and Autobot escort were orns away from the farthest reach of their sensors and communications range. The other refugee group was two orns away from communications range and would be within rescue outreach even sooner.

Magnus was organizing soldiers and shuttles to go out to meet them. The continued provocation of the garrison by Daniels and his mercs at Diego as per their agreement with Shockwave was troubling. The meeting in less than 27 orns with Shockwave and anyone else the traitors were going to bring was a big issue because they would capture or kill him at that moment.

Hopefully.

The weapon that Shockwave promised Nast needed retrieving and the hit-and-run investigator was due in three days. That didn't include items of personal interest such as Starscream's hatchling transfer in six orns, Sunstreaker's trine's protoform discussions, the growth and progress of the little mechs and femme ... all of it was important.

Ratchet left Orion with his big old Pa, then walked to their quarters. He was feeling light as a feather and when he rounded the corner, he smiled. Sunstreaker was leaning against the wall outside his door waiting for him. When he reached the door, keying in his lock, he smiled, "Come on it," he said as they entered together.

Ratchet looked at the big mech standing by the door staring at him silently. "Sunstreaker, I hope you know how important it was for all of us that you manned up and went to the barracks to talk to those two soldiers."

Sunstreaker nodded as he shifted in his struggle to say what he wanted Ratchet to hear. "You stuck up for us. Me and Sideswipe. You stuck up for us with Weaver."

Ratchet nodded. "You're mine now, you and Sideswipe. You belong to Ironhide and me. No one will ever slag you or Sideswipe without hearing from us about it."

Sunstreaker nodded. He was silent and Ratchet could see that the words he wanted to say were hard going. He walked to the Lambo and slipped his arms around his waist.

Sunstreaker immediately grabbed him into a tight hug.

They stood together a long time, then Sunstreaker stepped back to look at Ratchet with an almost savage expression. "If there ever is a need you have, you and Hide, you know I’ll be there. Sideswipe and me, we’ll come."

"I know that," Ratchet said. "And you know that Ironhide, Orion and me will be there for both of you. I meant it when I agreed to be your genitor. You’re mine, you and Sideswipe. Don't you ever forget that."

"I won't," Sunstreaker said. "I ..." He struggled a moment, then shook his head in exasperation at his own inarticulate emotional paralysis.

Ratchet smiled. "You two were the biggest wildest pair of yahoos I ever met. I think that's why I love you both so much."

Sunstreaker relaxed, his form and expression mellowing before Ratchet's eyes.

He pulled Ratchet to him and held him gently. "I love you, too," he whispered.

Ratchet grinned. "How is Sideswipe?"

"He gets back tomorrow."

"Good," Ratchet said. "I'm going to make an appointment with Wheeljack so you three can decide on your protoform."

"Will you come, too? I don't know slag from protoforms and neither does Sideswipe and Bluestreak."

"I will. What do you want to have it look like?" Ratchet asked.

"I want it beautiful. I want it perfect."

Ratchet snorted. "Like father, like son?"

Sunstreaker leaned back to look at Ratchet with a smirk. "Can it be any other way?"

Ratchet chuckled then shook his head. "Nope."

Sunstreaker smiled. Genuinely.

-0-Autobot City, Mars

Springer sat in the Ops Center watching data from the array that was just out of the orbit of Uranus, placed with care to monitor deep space. NASA had asked to have a piece of it, to focus a camera on the star masses beyond our own galaxy and Optimus has agreed. Their little camera, as advanced as anything that mankind had ever made was parked in the array along with alien technology so far ahead of the curve that stars would burn out before humans caught up.

The first group of refugees would be in range of subspace communications in a couple of joors. He would be there to catch their condition, numbers, composition, needs and location. All of the Aerialbots and the two Protectobots on base would be going out to meet them and do what was needed to ensure that they came to Mars in as good a condition as their travel would allow. Every field medic in their garrison and that of Earth had been in advanced training since the first group of refugees had arrived months ago. They’d rotated out of Diego Garcia and Ratchet's expertise. Now it was going to pay off.

Three shuttles, two Aerialbots minimum and a full compliment of soldiers would be going out. All they needed now was information. He sat and waited, watching the experts all around him do their jobs seamlessly. It was good to be a part of an organization that had a base, a hierarchy, a foundation of order and productivity and a goal beyond living through the next confrontation. He was glad to be here, this place he considered home.

-0-Daniels

He sat in his office watching out the window as Autobots went through the different targets on the firing range. He was as livid as he could be that the hearing where he was going to lay out the case that the cost in all areas of doing business with the Autobots was too high had been a failure. He was going to take his first step out onto the public stage and show the world what he was made of. It had all backfired when Weaver let the hearing get away. The worst part of all was when it ended without Daniels or Galloway being called.

Ratchet was a wily operator and Prowl … stick-up-his-ass Prowl had been there to assist. The video was hard to argue with although die-hard allies in the press were trying. 'Faked', 'edited', 'alien lies' ... they tried but even he had to admit that they sounded and looked stupid.

He sat back to consider Ratchet. He was their public face, spokesman and defender. He was the one who went into the fray and did battle. Prime hid behind a curtain of mystery, a very good tactical idea he considered. It made him seem so much more than he could be if everyone knew him and had a litany of events to belabor. He could be this magisterial presence in absentia. Ratchet on the other hand was a rather relaxed and regular personality and had great appeal among the unwashed masses.

He had to do something about that. He had to check the influence that this oddball had on the public. First, he was yellow and now he was red and white, a sort of parody of a medico. He was funny and seemed warm. He also wasn't afraid and had some experience doing this sort of thing, that much was clear. Ratchet had to be removed from the equation. There had to be someone else to step up, someone less experienced, less capable.

He mused on the myriad ways he could do this, then put it item number one on his to-do list before the next meeting. He didn't know how he could do it but things sometimes presented themselves. He also considered that bunch of kids. The investigation was coming in a couple of days and he wondered how they would ever prove it wasn’t their fault. He would have to wait, watch and be wary.

The sun filled his room, the sea breeze was soft as all around him the world of the professional military was moving along. From two worlds, from two species, the experts at defense and offense honed their skills but he didn't notice that. He was too busy with other things.

-0-Prime

He walked from N.E.S.T. and the love fest that had taken place over three continents. Washington, D.C., London, England and Sydney, Australia had rejoiced with him that the integrity of their soldiers and organization had been affirmed along with the dignity of the Autobots by the gangling medico with the curious paint job. Prime had chuckled all through the meeting, the items being almost of less consequence than the gloating of the participants over the face plant of the redoubtable dim bulb, Beau Weaver and his faction.

Entering the hangar, he turned into Ops Center to walk to Prowl who sat in the middle collating information and doing three other things at the same time. He sat, then grinned. "Hello."

Prowl looked up with a grin of amusement. "Hello, yourself. You look mighty pleased."

"I feel mighty pleased," Prime said relaxing into his chair. "I do in the face of great competence."

Prowl grinned. "Are you being specific or are you in a more general mood with your smilies?"

"Smilies?" Prime asked as he gently put a ped over Prowl's.

"Your constant smiles since the hearing," Prowl said as he relaxed slightly. "You're playing 'footsie' under the table. What will the mechs think?"

"It might be good for them to see that the morale of their dear leaders is at an all time high."

"That's true," Prowl said leaning forward as he lowered his voice. "My morale is rather high if you know what I mean."

Prime grinned. "Well ... I'm glad to hear it."

Prowl glanced around because he was at the very core proper, prim and easily derailed by acting on impulses that he may have during working hours that didn't require a slide rule. He grinned slightly. "Um, I’d be happy to have a bit more morale later if you know what I mean."

"Morale with a side of hoo-ah?" Prime replied as he leaned in to rest his chin on his servo. With his elbow planted firmly on the table, he leaned forward until his nose assembly nearly touched Prowl's. "Look serious so that anyone watching will think we are actually doing something we are supposed to do."

Prowl smirking slightly leaned forward as his blue optics took in the beauty of Prime's face. "You want to be naughty, do you?"

"Oh yes," Prime whispered. "Naughty and maybe even bad."

Prowl sat back a moment gathering himself until he could school an expression of calm sanity. Leaning forward again, he gazed heatedly into Prime's optics. "Bad ... as in what?"

Prime feeling the burn of Prowl's stare almost lost his train of thought. "Bad as in ... I forgot. Give me a moment ... bad as in needing a thorough ..."

At that moment, Ironhide tapped the table startling the two half out of their peds. Grinning like a demon, his little mini-me looking at them over his binky, Ironhide leaned down. "Is this some of that phone sexy that Ratchet tried on me a while back?"

Prime looked at Ironhide with a chuckle. "No."

Prowl who looked like he wanted to crawl under the table began to shuffle datapads for mostly no reason at all.

Ironhide pulled up a chair to sit. "Don't look so embarrassed, Prowl. Good for you. You need to loosen your corset a little."

They both searched the internet for the appropriate language and definitions. Then Prowl gave him a withering look. "I don't wear a corset but I will take your sparkling."

And he did.

Ironhide who looked like his girdle had snapped glanced at Prime. "You really need to get him his own sparkling."

"We are working on it," Prime said drawing startled glances from both Ironhide and Prowl. He caught it then sat straighter. "Sunstreaker."

Prowl relaxed slightly as he grinned at Prime snidely. He patted and kissed Orion. "You’re such a sparkling, Optimus."

Prime grinned. "If you say so, Prowl.”

"I do and Orion agrees. You agree with Uncle Prowl don't you," Prowl cooed.

Orion grinned at ‘Owl’ chirping his delight.

Prowl grinned wider as he looked at Prime with a pointed gaze.

Prime looked at Ironhide. "Thanks, Ironhide," he said with a grin of his own.

Ironhide who sat back with amusement nodded. "Don't mention it."

-0-Autobot City, Mars

They stood in the Med Bay listening as Wheeljack explained the hatchling pod. Even though they were experts at such devices and had used them before, this one was more complex, more foolproof and hopefully, the infants growing that last part of their journey inside of it would actually come out of the devices alive. They certainly didn’t with Megatron’s gruesome experiments.

Even as Wheeljack obliviously explained and answered questions, the failures of flocks of hatchlings lingered in the minds of the trine.

Starscream relieved of the burden of specific detailed information through memory failure nonetheless felt 'something'. He had talked with them about it all the night before trying to understand the aching in his spark that came to him with the thought of Seekers disappearing. They patiently and selectively explained to Starscream how he and the five of them were ordered by The Fallen to raise an army for his disposal. However, the limitations of supply had ensured that clutch after clutch of hatchlings died in agony.

He’d been spared the images but the emotions clung to him and as he listened he felt the echo of lost youth, the echo of failure washing up to him like a dark tide.

When Wheeljack was finished and they’d left to walk back to their barracks he stopped to look up at the sky. His trine mates hovered around him, their optics fixed upon Starscream. He shook his head. "I know something about this," he whispered. Staring at the ground as he wondered again about something he thought he knew. He looked at them, his expression searching. "What is this thing that I don't know?"

"It's nothing, Starscream," Sky Warp said taking his arm. Turning him, they moved forward slowly. "You don't have to worry about a thing."

Starscream glanced at the purple Seeker. "You're wrong, you know. Megatron will find me. He will find me and the hatchlings. You must protect them. You must promise me."

Thundercracker looking at him with sadness nodded for Starscream’s benefit. Sky Warp did, too. Starscream relaxed a little as they came closer to home. They walked onward slowly. "We will have Seeker infants shortly. You must take care of them. When Megatron comes and kills me they will need you ever more."

Sky Warp, his face a weary desolation slipped his arm around Starscream's shoulders. Thundercracker took Starscream's servo. The three walked slowly back to their home. It was quiet and peaceful in The Fortress. One wouldn't know there was a thing wrong in this or any other world.

  
  


** Chapter ** ** 146 **

  
  


-0-Sideswipe, on his way to Earth two days later

He stood in line his duffel lying at his feet. The crews were rotating out and he was going home. Sunstreaker was off the rotation and Bluestreak had five orns before he would have to go to Autobot City for his turn. He was tired and wanted to go home. Standing quietly in line, he watched as the Protectobots began to load the shuttles for their mission. They’d built shuttles and armed them to the teeth. They were of Cybertronian design with different modifications for speed and strength. The garrison was providing soldiers, four in each one and they would help with the refugees who were now in range of actual contact.

He’d been worried that he’d have to go but Ratchet had intervened. He grinned. He had to talk to Blue and Sunny about what had happened. Sunny had actually told Ratchet that he wished the medic and Ironhide were their genitors. He had felt that moment and for a second there was such love in him for his brother that he thought he’d burst from the enormity of it. Hard aft loner, vainglorious snob, lonely insecure beauty, Sunstreaker had actually gotten up the gumption to say something to someone that showed his need.

It was slaggin' awesome.

By the time the line began to move Sideswipe was happier than he had been in ages.

-0-Wheeljack and Perceptor

Ratchet breezed in, Orion in arms and dragged a chair by his ped to where they were sitting. Plopping down, he grinned. "I want to make an appointment for Sunstreaker, Sideswipe and Bluestreak to come and design their sparkling's protoform with you two."

Wheeljack glanced at Orion who sat in Ratchet's lap staring at them solemnly, then nodded. "We can do that. Orion looks great."

"Well, he is at that end of the awesome scale," Ratchet said with a snort. “Or so someone tells me.”

Wheeljack chuckled. "He is, at that," he replied. "I have to hand it to Ironhide. He's been a wonderful genitor. I'm surprised you got him out of his servos."

"It wasn't easy," Ratchet said. "He'd be in the berth with us if he had his way. Sort of cuts down on the 'face life if you know what I mean."

"Too much information," Perceptor said wincing with his usual nerdish dignity.

"Really?" Ratchet said. "So what's the story about you two?"

Perceptor rising in self-defense begged off. "I have an appointment." He left quickly.

"An appointment with what?" Ratchet asked with a smirk. "Scaredy pants."

Perusing the internet as the cultural reference was made, Wheeljack grinned, his audial lights flashing his amusement. "You're a formidable force of nature, Ratchet."

"For good, Wheeljack. I use my powers only for good," he said chuckling. "You and Percy a thing now?"

Wheeljack considered Ratchet a moment. "You do realize that you're mad. Stark raving mad."

Ratchet grinned. "You say the nicest things."

Wheeljack grinned as he shook his head. "Yes, we're a 'thing'. There. Are you happy?"

"It only took about nine million years. How many can say that?" Ratchet said with a smile. "I'm glad."

Wheeljack's finials flashed a mild shade of pink as he looked at Ratchet with a happy expression. "So am I."

"My younglings. You  ** will  ** be taking care of them? Sideswipe comes back in about two joors and I want them in here before they can change their mind."

"I'll get Percy. When they get here and are ready to come comm me. I'll be here."

"Thank you, 'Jack," Ratchet said rising to go. "You're a good friend."

Wheeljack reached out and caught Ratchet's arm. "So are you, Ratchet," he said.

Ratchet smiled.

Orion smiled.

Wheeljack and Ratchet smiled at Orion.

Then Ratchet walked out the door to do more do-gooding.

Perceptor who was hiding nearby walked back in. then sat He looked at Wheeljack with a genuine shade of fear. "What did he want, 'Jack?"

"Everything," Wheeljack said with a smirk

"I was afraid of that," Perceptor said glancing at the door with loathing.

/... go ahead and fret, Percy ... that'll teach you to abandon me in my hour of need .../ Wheeljack returned to their project with a grin.

-0-Ironhide

He was making his circuitous rounds rattling locks and displaying his awesomeness to the mercs who had taken to sitting on hummers to 'sun themselves' across the tarmac in front of the Embassy. They were utterly brazen and there were no regulations to prevent them from doing what they were doing. Around them, the usual crowd of soldiers, sailors, marines and civilians were watching, too, but they were curious and friendly, not ominous and hateful.

Fulton was fuming and everyone else in the chain of command was, too, but no one could do anything about it.

The Aerialbots had said they would park in their space but the need to rescue the refugees had come up and most of them had to shoulder shuttle duties while two of their brethren were on that task. All-in-all, they had to tolerate the scrutiny and implied menace.

Ironhide making even closer and closer passbys as he made each round found himself wanting to mush them under his peds. However, in the interests of inter species amity and the Wrath of Prime, he didn't. He did, however, have delightful fantasies when they hoved into view. When they were left behind on the circuit he would go back to the images that made him most happy, Ratchet and Orion.

The medico had taken his sparkling away from him for a while and he felt a bit put out. Lots put out. ‘Pouting like a sparkling’ put out. He grinned then schooled his face into a scowl to scare the mercs. He was a sparkling about his sparkling. That little sparkling had stolen his spark and he was hopelessly in love with his little baby boy. Being an older genitor, he’d gotten a lot of stoopid done already in his long fabled life and his priorities were different now. Ratchet, Orion, Prime, his garrison and the humans, the Autobot Cause and Cybertron were about all that Ironhide needed to be fulfilled.

And kicking Decepticon aft.

And punching Decepticon faces.

Shooting holes in Megatron.

Standing on top of Decepticon carcasses.

Those were good, too.

He rounded the corner and they were there sunning themselves on top of hummers drunk from drinking beer all day as they watched him. He knew he was awesome because of their attentive gaze when he came into view. He knew he freaked some humans out. He knew it from their expressions. He was enormous, twenty-five feet of brawn and menace. His expression which Ratchet loved and looked so cute on his sparkling was hard to read in his black paint scheme so he always looked dangerous even though those who knew him best knew he was good sparked, extremely intelligent, patient when it was called for, loyal and even cultured. That most didn't suited him because those who knew him and most Cybertronians who saw him could see all his other qualities. They were there but to humans he looked like ... what was it Ratchet called it?

Oh yeah.

A demonic Kewpie doll.

He moved along the route he was making that took him within range of projectiles from the mercs. He knew it. He was in his own way provoking them, walking along the outer edge of Autobot territory cannons out, menace showing, smoke snorting from his nostril assembly, his tread heavy and his danger maximum. They watched him go past and as he continued onward, he felt something hit him then bounce off.

He paused then turned to look down at the ground. An unopened can of beer was lying there rolling back and forth before stopping. He looked at them, the mercs who were smirking, then at the can. He stepped on it smashing it so flat it was pressed into the ground. Then he looked at them his cannons whining. His lower processor stem screeched to blast them but he didn't. He just looked at them, unmoved, unblinking and frightening.

Two of them quieted and sat back in the hummer trying to be invisible. Two of them didn't. Tim Bolton, having gotten marching orders to provoke was at it again and his partner, Seth Tomas, himself enamored over Bolton's already earned bounties on bullshit had joined him. The others were only hanging out and some of the mercs were absent completely. They stared at Ironhide wondering how far to push him. Since Lawrence and Todd weren't there to tell the two of what happened the last time someone did, they didn't really know any better.

Mostly.

They just believed that the Autobots would obey orders and take their crap without retaliation. Too bad they had the wrong Autobot in their sights for that assumption to be true.

-0-Sideswipe

The craft landed then seven soldiers deplaned to walk and roll across the tarmac toward the Embassy. As they got within sight of the hangar, they could see a situation in front. Sideswipe tossed his duffel to another then rolled forward to skate to a stop just behind Ironhide. The mercs sitting on their hummer were giving Ironhide a line of slag and Ironhide was standing on their side of the divide with a look of utter ferocity on his face.

All of the mercs but Bolton and Tomas had left the site moving away when it because clear that the two mercs were going to press their luck. Some of the mechanics in a nearby hangar had come out to watch and one of them had called someone on their cell.

Sideswipe took in the whole situation as he came to stop just behind Ironhide. "What do you want to do, Ironhide? I'm with ya."

Ironhide glancing over to nod at Sideswipe, then turned his gaze back to the humans. All they had to do was step over the line and he would have them. All it took was one bold moment and they were his. The big mech commed Sideswipe. :I want them to cross the line into our territory. Go to the hangar door and wait inside. Record all of this:

Sideswipe nodded then skated backward, moving into the Embassy to roll to one side. He watched as the mercs sat on the hood of their hummer and catcalled Ironhide. A burn in his spark so hot he could feel it in his extremities filled him but he waited recording every word, every movement, every single drunken stupid thing they were doing.

-0-Red Alert

"Prime?"

Optimus looked up from the stack of datapads before him. He was sitting in Ops Center working on the endless data processing that came with great responsibility. "Red?"

Prowl who was standing nearby sorting data threads into 'critical' and 'who gives a frag right now' turned as well as Red stood by the main desk in distress.

"Look at this," Red Alert said switching the overhead monitor to another scene of the base. It was the front of the Embassy. Ironhide was standing out front without moving and two mercs were harassing him. The mercs were rising up from the hood of their hummer to step down and walk slightly away from the truck toward Ironhide.

The big mech might as well have been a statue so quietly was he standing and Prime knew in a moment what he was doing. Rising, his eyes riveted upon the scene, he called. :Prime to Ironhide:

:Ironhide here:

:We see you:

:I know: Ironhide replied.

:Dangerous game, Ironhide: Prime said.

:Sideswipe is filming. All they have to do is step across the line into our territory:

:I am coming: Prime said then he moved quickly for the door with Prowl right behind him.

It, of course, was too late.

-0,-Ratchet

He was standing in the corridor outside of Med Bay when he saw Bluestreak rounding a corner. Behind him, hurrying along as well was Sunstreaker who paused long enough to grab Ratchet's arm. Ratchet and Orion were hustled onward with them. They made their way to the rec room and saw that a number of mechs and Prime were standing out of view watching something going on outside. Walking closer Ratchet felt Ironhide's calmness and focus.

"Oh-oh," Ratchet said moving with the two younglings to stand near to Prime and Prowl.

Chapter 147

  
  


-0-In front of the Embassy

They stood in the shadows watching the show outside. Ratchet was holding Orion as he stood with Bluestreak and Sunstreaker. They watched as Ironhide and the mercs did their dance of doom.

Prime and Prowl were just out of sight, their optics fixed on the massive black mech outside.

Ironhide upped the ante finding their brazen self-assurance based on their belief in his inability to disobey orders their Achilles heel. He powered down his guns and subspaced them stepping back a ped or two, his demeanor and expression remaining malevolent even as he gave them more rope. They were just two feet away from the invisible but formally designated line demarcating by treaty agreement the boundary between their embassy and sovereign territory from the rest of the base. All he needed to do was give them room to move toward him to breach the barrier and then they were his.

The mercs paused a moment in their hoo-haw to watch him step back and power down. Grinning as they misinterpreted his actions, they stepped forward and returned to their mouthy bullshit. They loudly taunted and teased him as they moved forward in brazen disregard for the danger that was looming before them. Around them, the rest of the spectators watched with disbelief and amazement. Some of them were feeling the burn as they stood nearby with clenched fists and angry expressions. A few even knew what Ironhide was doing.

Ironhide took two more steps backward then halted as he gazed at them with contempt. They took two steps forward and that was all he needed. Moving with speed they could never have expected, he flanked them, appearing behind them before they could even turn to watch. When they did, they were silenced by the spectacle of a monster glowering behind them, his expression one of death and destruction unlimited.

They turned in circles looking for a way to run but Ironhide was too fast, cutting them off each direction they turned. As they stood together staring up at him, they barely had time to scream when he moved forward to grab them off their feet. Holding one in each hand, he waited as Prime stepped out to walk toward him.

"What do you have here, Ironhide?" Prime asked as he suppressed a grin. This wasn’t the first time he’d seen Ironhide defuse a situation. He’d done the same thing himself many times.

"A couple of fools who are trespassing on our embassy," Ironhide replied.

The two mercs were petrified into silence which was fine with Prime. He glanced at the doorway motioning for Red Alert to come forward. "Red, please accompany Ironhide to the brig with these two idiots. I will contact Fulton. We have a diplomatic incident and I do not intend to let them off the hook this time."

Red nodded then followed Ironhide as he walked to the embassy to disappear inside.

Ratchet watched him go by, then shook his head. "They never learn."

"No, the fraggers," Sunstreaker said with his arm around Ratchet.

Ratchet looked up at him and smiled slightly.

"Entertaining though," Sunny said with a savage grin.

"I think so. Didn't know your old man had it in him, did you," Ratchet said.

"No," Sunstreaker said.

Sideswipe transferring the files to Prime skated up with a grin to halt in front of all four of them. "That was fraggin' awesome," he said embracing Bluestreak in a hug.

"Your old dad’s no one's pushover," Ratchet said with a chuckle.

"No," Sideswipe said. "Pops is the mech."

They laughed and it felt good, the moment was good.

"You younglings have an appointment with Perceptor and Wheeljack in a few breems. I'm supposed to let them know," Ratchet said.

Bluestreak took Orion to hold him up before kissing, then settling him against his shoulder. "You'll come too, right?"

Ratchet nodded. "You might not include Ironhide. He wanted big yellow dots around Orion's optics until I shamed him out of it."

They grinned.

"Might have helped his night vision," Sideswipe said innocently.

"Oh, Primus. Like genitor, like sparkling," Ratchet said as he headed for Wheeljack's lab. "Come on. Let's see what kind of pretty sparkling we can make." They followed along chatting among themselves until they disappeared down the corridor.

-0-Fulton and Prime

"It's a full-blown diplomatic incident," Fulton said. "Anything short of that is inadequate for what happened."

Prime said, "We would like to see them tossed off the island eventually."

"I will see to it," Fulton said. "You know they were the two involved in the hit-and-run attempt."

Prime nodded. "The investigator is due tomorrow. I will keep them in the brig until then so that they can be questioned. You and I will not have to expedite this and if Daniels complains tell them that it is my actions that are slowing things down. Tell them that Cybertronians hold their diplomatic territories sacrosanct and that this is a very big affront to us."

Fulton agreed. "Good. I don't want them to leave Diego Garcia unless it's in handcuffs and under guard."

Prime smiled slightly. "You read my processor."

-0-Ops Center

Prowl transferred the data that Sideswipe had taken and treated it to a format that could be burned onto a DVD and given to Fulton. It went into the merc file that was getting to be enormous. All of it would be made available to the investigator coming from Hawaii tomorrow.

-0-Wheeljack's lab

They sat together side-by-side, the three of them looking at the typical formats for mechs. Ratchet standing behind them helped explain the possibilities. Then they waited as the three of them worked it out.

First, it had to have mech wings.

Second, it was a mech.

Third, it was to be awesome and the most beautiful sparkling that had ever made its way to a Cybertronian national in this or any other universe.

Fourth, it would bear all their colors.

Fifth, since Sunstreaker was going to be screaming on the med berth his color would dominate.

The end product was quite nice. The mech would be the luminously beautiful yellow of Sunstreaker. He would have red hands and a tasteful red stripe around his arm for his other father, Sideswipe while the black and white door wings of his last father, Bluestreak would complete the body format. A tiny chevron of gray would be Bluestreak's other contribution. It was a jazzy, colorful and extremely pretty protoform design. They sat together silently and watched it on the screen as Wheeljack turned it from all angles for the three to see. Then they looked at Ratchet. "What do you think, Ratchet?" they all asked together.

"I think it's quite beautiful," Ratchet said turning to look at the door as it opened.

Prowl walked in grinning slightly. "Sorry I'm late," he said moving to stand behind Sideswipe. He looked at the screen then smiled broadly. "Wow. What a beautiful little sparkling.

Everyone relaxed.

Prowl turned to the three. "Beautiful. I want to hold him now." Then he took Orion who grinned at him around his binky as he stared up at Prowl's chevron with scheming optics. “This will do as a stop gap.”

"And hello to you, Prowl," Ratchet said with a smirk. "We'll have to discuss alternate sparkling sitting because this could get ugly."

Prowl grinned, pausing from kissing Orion's little cheeks for a second. "It very well could."

The three watching them smiled.

Including Sunstreaker.

-0-In the brig

Ironhide had trotted down to put them into a cell, stepping back as Red Alert turned on the bars. He watched them a moment, then left without a word. They watched silently for a while before walking to the wall. Sitting down with their backs to it, they waited silently, too afraid to make a sound.

-0-Daniels

He got the word almost immediately and drove to the N.E.S.T. hangar across the tarmac from the embassy. Walking inside, he looked around trying to find Fulton who he believed had to be there. No one came to his assistance so he walked to the offices of the officers in the back. Pausing before the door of Will Lennox, he rapped on the jamb.

Looking up to see who it was, Lennox sighed with disgust. "If you came to get your scumbags they're in the Autobot brig."

"I want them. Help me get them out."

"They made a diplomatic incident. Ask the State Department. By the way, I wouldn't."

Daniels regarded him for a moment. "Why is that?"

"Because, Daniels, I hear some of your bosses are pissed right now with the games you're playing, alienating the aliens and all. The country really likes the Autobots. They liked what they saw at the hearing and they back the bots. You on the other hand are a first class asshole who no one likes." Will grinned as he leaned back in his chair. "No one."

Daniels's expression never changed and Lennox wondered what it would take to move him. He seemed never to be touched by the moment, by the deeds he was facing. His soul seemed to be missing. He rose to walk around his desk. "Gotta run. Meeting at the embassy."

"Take me with you."

Lennox turned back to look at Daniels, an opaque figure before him. "Not on your life, Daniels. Get someone else to do that." Then he left.

Daniels watched him. For a moment he was still in thought, then he walked out and away, back to his barracks once more.

-0-At the meeting

They sat at the conference table, the senior Autobots and the soldiers. Lennox, Epps and Graham were filled in and they talked about the political fallout that they might be facing. That was when Prowl brought up a couple of new items received that morning that could be possibilities for reinforcing their good impressions in the minds of the worldwide audience that had watched the two sets of hearings.

"Senator Hoxley has asked permission to bring their committee to Diego to see the embassy and our garrison. Apparently, she's very smitten with Ratchet and would like to do this to disperse more information into the outside world. She believes that the more people know the more they will support us."

"What we don't control we lose," Ratchet said as he watched Prowl hold Orion.

Ironhide sitting beside him watched Prowl, too. Ironhide watched Orion in a miffed pinched brow sparkling pouting sort of way. Prowl had seized Orion the moment they came through the door telling Ironhide that seeing the new infant's pretty protoform had been an overwhelming experience. It required immediate sparkling therapy. Ironhide, having to surrender his little buddy sat peeved.

Ratchet sat amused.

Prime sat nervously.

Prowl sat ecstatically.

Orion sat on his lap staring at a red chevron with calculating optics.

The others sat expectantly.

The soldiers sat obliviously.

It was a normal meeting at Autobot HQ in Diego.

"What do you think? A controlled visit? A tour of the facility and perhaps a briefing," Wheeljack asked. "Do you want to become visible, Optimus? Or do you want to remain the force behind the facade?"

"That is a nice way to put it," Prime said with a grin.

"The Wizard of Oz," Ratchet said. "Or shall I say in honor of Jase Daniels, the Wizard of Odd."

They all looked at him with mystification as Ratchet sighed. "Someone has to be literate and that appears to be me."

"I read," Wheeljack said miffed. "I just finished a McPhee."

"Really? That's nice. Now where were we?" Ironhide interjected swiftly with his optics focused intently on Orion who was patting Prowl's face as the winger smiled and whispered to him oblivious, purposefully, of Ironhide's snit.

It was good to be Prowl.

"We were discussing opening our doors to a committee that’s two thirds supportive and one third stupid. Although one of them appears to be leaning our way," Ratchet said reminding Ironhide what he already knew, the slagger.

"Thomas?" Perceptor asked.

Ratchet nodded as he slipped his arm around the back of Ironhide's chair. "He actually wanted to know things and didn't save Weaver at the end. In fact, he was actually very much a changed figure at the end."

"Good idea then?" Prime asked.

Ratchet nodded. "I don't think it's got anything but an up side if we manage where and what they see and do. William? Robert? Niall? What do you think?"

"Well, I don't like having politicians around but Hoxley seems to be supportive and helping her helps us," Will replied as the others nodded.

Prime agreed, then looked at Prowl who was kissing Orion's little cheeks. The infant was trying to reach Prowl's chevron but failing. "Prowl?"

Prowl looked at Optimus. "I'll get it arranged. Middle of next week? That will be two weeks from the Shockwave meet up."

Prime nodded. "What was the other one? The idea you mentioned."

"A film crew from a news program that’s highly regarded in America wants to do an interview and come here to film. They want to speak to you and if not you, then Ratchet. They also want to do a short part of the interview about or with the children. Especially Orion who’s touched a cord ... Orion, Spirit and Silverbow."

It was silent a moment, then Prime leaned back in his chair. "As one of the three parental sets here I do not like this but I see the point it could make of giving people emotional investment in us."

"That's true," Ratchet said glancing at Orion. "What do you think about someone coming to film Orion, Ironhide?"

Ironhide glanced at Ratchet and frowned. "I don't like it. Hard enough to keep a hold of him now without creating admirers all over the slagging world."

Everyone chuckled as Prowl grinned at Ironhide, holding Orion even closer to his own chassis. "You big sparkling. This sparkling is a charmer. I think between him, the mechs and Silverbow, anyone who's afraid of us will be reassured. I only wish our own was here so we could show the whole world how wonderful they are."

"You're a goner, Prime," Ironhide said sitting back with resignation. "No way you won't get your own sooner than later."

They all chuckled and decided in the end that more information was needed. Prowl would handle the correspondence with the American company. Hoxley would come in the middle of the next week. It would be controlled and carefully scrutinized with final call on any footage to be cleared through Optimus Prime himself, ostensibly under the guise of security.

-0-Daniel

He sat at his computer, the heavily encrypted one that Intel-Martin had given him. He poured out his angst to his father, grandfather, Nast or so he thought, Galloway, Weaver and High Flyer. Then he turned it off and got a beer, going to the window to stare out as he popped the top. Taking a deep drink, he wondered when he could get off this rock permanently. As he did a group of Autobots walked to the shooting range and proceeded to shoot up everything in sight. He sighed, his head pounding from the noise, then walked to the living room to sit and wait for replies.

  
  


  
  


Chapter 148

  
  


-0-Ratchet and Ironhide

"Prime's going to get a sparkling before he knows it." Ironhide sat on the couch with **HIS** sparkling in his lap staring at the ceiling as he sucked on the feeding tube from his old dad.

[grin] "It would serve him right. Prowl has a fondness for younglings and he should’ve seen the servo writing on the wall earlier. Bluestreak should have been a clue."

[Silence]

"Are you always going to be a big sparkling whenever anyone holds Orion?"

"He misses me when I don't hold him."

"He misses you." [grin] "That sparkling doesn't lack for friends, Ironhide."

"He only has two genitors."

"But he has dozens of friends, Ironhide. You shouldn't be such a big sparkling about your sparkling."

[Silence]

"I love this sparkling, Ratchet. I love him so much it scares me sometimes."

Ratchet paused writing his epic  to look at Ironhide who was sitting on the couch  with his sparkling laying on his lap in front of him. H e walked over to sit beside  Ironhide . "He  ** is ** at that end of the awesome scale."

Ironhide smirked. "Told you so. Came true."

"It sure did." Ratchet grinned.

Then Ironhide looked at Ratchet with an intense gaze. "You did a good deed here, Ratchet. I didn't know what I was missing. You're a miracle for me."

Ratchet smiled slightly as he gazed at the huge hulk next to him. "A small thing, Ironhide."

"No, it wasn't," Ironhide said quietly. He looked at his son then Ratchet. "It was slaggin' hard. You did a good deed and saved me from never knowing what its like to have a little mech of my own. I love you, Ratchet."

"I love you, Ironhide," Ratchet said. He leaned in to kiss Ironhide, a soft sweet kiss, then looked at the sparkling who had grabbed his peds. "I wanted a handsome sparkling, one as handsome as you."

Ironhide smirked as he looked at Ratchet. "When you say that are you really serious?"

Ratchet stared at Ironhide then frowned slightly. "What? I think you're the handsomest mech I ever saw. Why wouldn't I want our sparkling to be that handsome?"

Ironhide grinned as he shook his head slightly. "You're the best thing that ever happened to me. This sparkling? As much as I'd lay down and die for him he comes the closest second ever."

Ratchet grinned. "You're the best thing I ever did for myself. What an awful life this would have been if we hadn't gotten together. Consider the prank wars that wouldn’t have happened."

"We'd have been together anyway. Seemed like a good idea to have a berth buddy."

"Oh really? You wanted me for my frame?" Ratchet asked with a grin.

"You have a pretty sexy frame, Ratchet," Ironhide said as he tucked the tube into his wrist panel. He patted the infant's belly as Orion chuckled. They both looked at him marveling as they did. "He laughs so cute. Everything about him is cute."

"That's because he's your image, Ironhide," Ratchet said squeezing Orion's ped. The infant chuckled again. "As I said, you only wanted me for my frame?"

"That and your sense of humor. You're one twisted old slagger."

Ratchet grinned. "You never complained before. As I do recall, about half of the prank wars were because you were the slagger, not me."

"True." It was quiet a moment as both of them watched their sparkling fondly. "But this one, this is the best treaty agreement outcome we ever made."

Ratchet nodded as he slid his arm along the back of the couch. He leaned into Ironhide's shoulder resting his helm on the mech. "When do we begin fire on the next one?"

Ironhide smiled. "You really want another?"

It was quiet a moment. Then Ratchet nodded. "Our people need us to do what we can. But it doesn't have to be now."

"A femme would be nice. One of each," Ironhide said quietly. "Although, another mech would be nice if they were even close to this one. This one's pretty easy going."

"He is," Ratchet said. "Sort of like his creator. A femme would be nice. But a mech like Orion … that would be nice, too. Sort of appealing, like Prime's younglings. Brothers."

"True," Ironhide said. 'Prowl is going to be a really great grand genitor."

"You do know that we're grandgenitors of that sparkling, too," Ratchet asked.

"I know," Ironhide said. It was quiet a moment. "That was a good move to take on the twins. They need some structure to their life."

"The trine’s been a good thing so far. Sunstreaker is just a big lonely youngling. There's something about him that tugs at my spark. It was easy to make them ours. There's paperwork somewhere. I'll get it from Prowl and we can make it formal. I think it'll really mean something to Sunny."

Ironhide nodded. "We're already family with the genitor rights. It'd be a good thing to make it formal."

"I'll get it going," Ratchet said. "Two adult younglings, a sparkling mech and a grandson. How lucky are we?"

"Fraggin' lucky," Ironhide said.

"Language, Ironhide," Ratchet said with a grin.

Ironhide grinned, too. "Yes, dear," he said.

Orion chuckled.

-0-Autobot City, Mars

He stood in the waning sunlight watching the stars come out in the dark velvet sky. Behind him watching, too, his trine mates stood in the doorway of their barracks. They’d flown out to the promontory to sit together to talk, reminisce and feel better than they had in a while. Starscream could remember a lot of the good times, especially the old ones and few of the bad ones. That was pleasing to Thundercracker and Sky Warp. It was also pleasing that Ratchet had agreed to come to Mars and supervise the transfer of the hatchlings from Starscream to the rather beautifully made hatchling pod/incubator.

Starscream turned to look at them, smiling slightly at the peacefulness of the moment. "Two more orns. Two more orns and our kind have a better chance to survive."

Thundercracker stared at Starscream with hopefulness. "That's because you're brave, Starscream."

Starscream looked at him. "Thank you, Thundercracker. I try."

"We know," Sky Warp said. He stepped behind Starscream to slip his arms around him. He held him and laid his helm on Starscream's shoulder. "We know everything."

Starscream nodded. "Good. I forget a lot. I don't know why but I do."

"You were hurt, Star," Thundercracker said. "But no one will hurt you now. We have hatchlings to raise. Maybe more later."

"Prime has to send the message with you to our kind to come. Wait until they see you here. And this place, it's a good place for us," Sky Warp said.

Starscream nodded. "It is. It will be good to see them here. It will be good to see that we carry on after I'm dead."

For a moment, there was a sickening sorrow as Thundercracker walked to Starscream  to look into his optics.  He t oo k  Starscream’s face into his servos. "Do you really believe, Starscream, that Sky Warp and I would ever, ever, ever allow you to be hurt anymore? The other three wouldn't allow it, I promise you. We made a  clan  oath between us. Prime would never allow it either.  ** Please ** , try and believe it."

Starscream stared at him, at his solemn sad expression then nodded slightly. "I will try. I think my processor won't allow it. But I will try."

"Maybe Ratchet can help you. Maybe Ratchet can get that out of your thinking," Sky Warp said hopefully.

"I don't know. How will I be ready for when Megatron comes if I don't know this?" Starscream said quietly. He glanced up meeting Thundercracker's gaze. "I don't want to not be ready."

"We'll be ready for you," Thundercracker said as he pulled Starscream into an embrace. Affection was never allowed unless they were alone. "All I want you to think about are the hatchlings. Little hatchlings, Starscream. Little ones because you're brave, because you're our good leader."

Starscream felt tears and emotion welling up. He nodded then looked at the ground as he blinked his optics. "Little ones. That will be a good thing."

They agreed with him as they stood together on the tall mound where it all began to stare at the stars. They saw the heavens, beautiful and vast, a heaven that was theirs now. He saw the place from which Megatron would come to kill him. They stood a long time together, then they went inside to rest.

-0-Prime and Prowl

They put the younglings to bed, then walked to the couch to sit and talk together. It was quiet a moment then Prowl grinned. "Ratchet is a piece of work as the humans say."

"That he is," Prime said nuzzling Prowl's neck.

Prowl sitting on his lap in the usual manner tilted his helm. "You do that so well," he said quietly as he pulled Prime's arms more tightly around him. "Another facet of your great leadership qualities."

"Making wingers smile?" Prime said.

"Among other things," Prowl chuckled. "You really freeze up when I have a sparkling in my servos."

"It is not that," Prime said. "We all have a duty to have families now. Its just that the threat is still there and it worries me."

"I know," Prowl said. "I wonder where Megatron is? I wonder if Shockwave knows."

"I do not know. Maybe he is gone and maybe he will come tomorrow. That is what worries me," Prime said.

"Put it out of your processor tonight," Prowl said looking up at him. "Not here, not in this space. Let some place be sanctuary, Optimus."

"Wherever you are, Prowl, that is sanctuary for me."

Prowl felt emotion flood him. He sat up to stare into t he face of the big mech of his dreams. "A poet's soul. You have one."

Prime grinned. "The Matrix," he began but Prowl cut him off. "No. You're the best mech I ever knew. That has nothing to do with the Matrix. It's you, Optimus," he said leaning back to pull Prime's arms around him. "Thank you for loving me, Optimus. I had almost given up hope."

"You steal my words from me."

Prowl grinned. "We were pretty inept. Thank Primus for Ratchet."

Prime chuckled. "What would we do for entertainment without Ratchet and Ironhide?"

Prowl chuckled, too. "I don't know. But that was a pretty classy move of Ironhide's today."

"It was. Dangerous but classy."

Prowl nodded. "Daniels is a dangerous force, Optimus. He doesn't appear to have any values or ideals beyond his own self interest."

"Too bad for him. We are used to that kind of foe," Optimus said.

Prowl grinned. "Yeah. Poor dumb slagger."

They both laughed.

-0-Sunstreaker, Sideswipe and Bluestreak

They sat on the couch and chair catching up. Bluestreak sat on Sideswipe's lap with his arms tightly around him.

"Ratchet is our adopted genitor, Ratchet and Ironhide," Sideswipe said with amazement.

Sunstreaker smirking at the greatness of it, too.

"That's so great, Sunny.

"Ratchet is awesome. I'm having this ... thing ..." He scowled slightly then continued. "Here. Not Mars. Not anywhere but here and with no one but Ratchet."

They agreed.

"What about the naming ceremony, Sunny? We'll have it here, too, right?" Bluestreak asked hopefully.

Sunny considered that, then nodded. "Here."

Bluestreak relaxed. "This is going to be so great. We have to plan parties and things. How about a shower?"

Sunstreaker leaned back aghast at even the mention of the possibility. "No. Not with me. No way."

"Big sparkling," Sideswipe said nudging him with his ped.

"In my place, would you?" Sunstreaker asked with a growing frown.

Sideswipe snorted.  ** "Frag no!" **

Bluestreak shook his helm. "Pitiful. You're just both pitiful."

"Get used to it, Blue," Sunstreaker said as he moved to the couch to join them.

Bluestreak snuggling between two enormous sexy mechs grinned with delight. "I already am."

  
  


** ( ** Kissing is canon in Transformers. Kissing and other signs of affectio n. Hasbro speaketh. Verily.)

Chapter 149

  
  


-0-On the way to Autobot City

He packed the medi-kit that he’d be using and datapads with information about transferring Seekers into incubation pods. He’d only done it once before during his residency after medical school before the war. He was aware of the delicacy and even greater resiliency of Seeker young. It was an old memory but useful this time around. Turning at the sound of ped falls, he saw Sideswipe walking into the Med Bay. "Hi."

"Hi," Ratchet replied as Sideswipe picked up the medi-kit.

"You ready to go?" he asked.

"You're my Mech Friday this time?"

Sideswipe accessed the relevant data file. "Yep."

Ratchet smirked as he tossed Sideswipe another bag. "Taking care of your old 'ma'am' are ya?"

He accessed data again. "I would be if you were a femme. But I get the point. We didn't feel like you needed to go to the frontier without a bodyguard."

"You and who?" Ratchet said as he walked to the door.

"Your other sparkling, the big pouty yellow one," Sideswipe said. "And Bluestreak. And Ironhide."

"So Orion had no opinion?" Ratchet asked with a chuckle as they walked together toward the rec room.

"He was too busy sucking on his ped." Sideswipe grinned. "Don't tell Sunny but I can't wait until the sparkling gets here."

"I won't and I can't either," Ratchet said. "But I think we all pale in comparison to Prowl."

"I think you're right," Sideswipe said.

They walked through the rec room and out the door toward the flight line where Cosmos sat waiting. They boarded and the shuttle lifted off taking them away to their other life, their other world, the refuge of their people both here and faraway. Behind them, everything went as it was going to go.

A jet landed and taxied to its temporary parking spot. Disembarking three officials from the State Department, the investigator and his aides walked toward N.E.S.T. HQ and the three-man delegation that was waiting for them. They met, greeted, then disappeared into the building.

Mirage watched them go inside as he passed. He was going to put in time at the merc barracks. Things were heating up and he was tasked to cover them exclusively.

-0-Ops Center

They gathered together checking and rechecking the data. Two items of interest had come together, one known and one new. The plasma weapon that Shockwave had managed to pass off was on its way to Intel-Martin HQ in Houston. After receipt, it was due to go to his research facility in San Antonio for reverse engineering. An e-mail from High Flyer to Nast had confirmed his remarks during their meeting so Prowl formulated the appropriate response back.

The second e-mail was different and new. High Flyer had been queried by Daniels about the 'Ratchet Problem' and had a response back. High Flyer was going to consider setting up a situation in which Ratchet would deploy, making himself a target for assassination. High Flyer expressed great disgust as well and was mulling the options available that would draw out the Autobot's chief diplomat and chief medical officer.

Ironhide was seething.

Orion fussed in his arms as his father's negative energy enveloped him.

Prowl took Orion into his own arms and pulsed soothing energy calming the sparkling as Prime, Jazz and Ironhide discussed their options.

"Now that we know this, Ratchet doesn't leave the base," Ironhide said.

"That would be the easiest solution. They are working off the idea that they are secure in their positions, that no one knows what they are doing," Prime said.

"We should look at what Shockwave has in store, Optimus," Jazz replied. "It should depend on what he has goin' on."

"No," Ironhide said. "I see what you're discussing, Jazz, but Ratchet's life is not going to be a lure in some game with Shockwave."

"We'd never jeopardize him, Ironhide," Jazz replied. "I just think we need to consider the options."

It was silent a moment. Then Prime turned to Ironhide. "I want you and Jazz to go get the weapon. We can order it placed in a storage facility some place that will make it easy to take. You are the weapons expert, Ironhide. I want you to do this. Take a couple of extra mechs if you think you need it. Cosmos can fly you."

"Ratchet's in Autobot City helping Starscream transfer his hatchlings. Cosmos took him and is supposed to wait for him to leave to bring him back," Ironhide said.

"Then go after that," Prime said.

It was quiet in Ops Center for the rest of the day.

-0-At Autobot City, Mars

They transformed after reaching the gates to walk through the courtyard inside to The Fortress entrance. No sign of the Battle of the Idiots was visible although Sideswipe and Ratchet had a chuckle remembering it. Going inside, they walked to Med Bay, noting the Seekers were not there yet. First Aid who was just about ready to leave to retrieve refugees greeted him at the incubator standing beside the med berth. It was filled with fluid, a gray and pink swirl of an amniotic type designed to nurture Seekers. They discussed things a moment then Ratchet walked to the door.

"Where are you going?" Sideswipe asked.

"To get Starscream," Ratchet said, disappearing around the corner. Sideswipe who sitting on a med berth watching things hopped down and skated out, catching up to Ratchet at an outside door. They stepped out into the weak light of early evening. The view in all directions was dramatic, rust colored vistas and faraway mountains adding a vastness to the plain upon which their fortress and city stood. They walked along and soon the barracks came into view.

Dirge saw them then stepped inside calling to others.

They came out one at a time, Dirge, Ramjet and Thrust who were as usual belligerent looking and mindful of Sideswipe who was standing nearby with a slight grin on his face. Then Sky Warp and Thundercracker appeared along with Starscream.

"Ratchet," Thundercracker said.

"Thundercracker," Ratchet said. "Is everyone ready?"

Starscream nodded then looked at the others. "We will go together?"

Sky Warp slipped his arm around Starscream's shoulders as he leaned in to him. "We're going to go with you always, Starscream."

Starscream looked at Sky Warp, then nodded. Turning to Thundercracker, he grinned. "Today is a good day."

"It is, Star," Thundercracker said. "Let's go now."

Together the small group walked to Med Bay and the continuing hopeful future of their own kind.

-0-Later

Starscream lay on the berth resting for a moment. Nearby, kneeling in front of a silver and copper incubator, staring through the transparent aluminum window in the front, Thundercracker and Sky Warp marveled at their young.

Ratchet who was wiping his servos on a towel smiled at them, enjoying their happiness. He walked to Starscream pausing by the berth. He touched Starscream's shoulder gently, watching as the Seeker on lined his optics. "Starscream, how do you feel?"

Starscream, looking at him for a moment in confusion, remembered Ratchet. "Fine. And the hatchlings?"

"Wait a moment," Ratchet said turning to wheel the incubator closer. As he did, Starscream struggled to sit up and with Ratchet's help did so. He sat a moment in confusion as his processor whirled, then stepped down to standing unsteadily. Sky Warp pulled a chair up helping Starscream walk over to sit.

Before him, their tiny bodies floating together in the tank, three tiny winged Seekers could be seen. They looked just like adults but were incredibly small in comparison. He stared at them leaning forward to examining them, then he smiled. "They’re ours."

"They are," Thundercracker said proudly. "One of them seems to have red and blue markings just like you, Starscream."

Starscream smiled as he leaned forward to spot the little one mentioned. "There he is," he whispered.

Ratchet moved back, then glanced at Sideswipe.

Sideswipe grinned.

"I think we'll go back when Cosmos leaves, Sideswipe. Could you let them know? I think it'll be okay from here on out."

He rolled out as Ratchet walked to the Seekers to kneel beside Starscream. "You're going to be staying here overnight and the night medic will take care of you. Then you can go to the barracks with your trine if you follow the directions that we'll give to Thundercracker. Do you think you can do that?"

Starscream looked at him then nodded. "I will." He turned back to watch. "The incubator, does it stay here or can it come with us?"

"We’ll keep it here for about three orns, then it can be moved to your barracks but I hope you won't do that. Here, its quiet and someone can help you no matter the time of the day. I would recommend it stay here. If you wish to stay here, too, I’ll arrange it."

"I would like that," he said quietly. He glanced up to Ratchet. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, Starscream," Ratchet said. He arose with a nod to Thundercracker and Sky Warp. Then he walked out the door, leaving the small family behind with their treasure.

-0-Earlier

The transfer was simple. Starscream's infants were carried in a pod that his body had made in his gestation chamber in his chassis just below his spark chamber. He had created it over time and the sparks had made their way downward into the growing bodies they would occupy just ten orns before transfer. Growing as far as they could within his chassis, they were ready to transfer to a chamber for the final ten days of gestation.

It had taken a few moments of pain for all the gain, the small sack of infants landing in Ratchet's hands as they slid out of Starscream's gestation chamber. Starscream lay down on his side, his gestation chamber releasing the infants. Ratchet catching them gently and carefully placed them into the incubation chamber. They sank into the nutrient rich gel, then he closed the door.

Thundercracker holding Starscream's servo smiled as he watched, the relief on his face and Sky Warp's immense. They gathered around Starscream and when he was laying back to rest, they hurried to the chamber to look at the infants inside with great joy. It was a happy day, a great moment and Ratchet was proud to be a part of it.

-0-On the way back

Sideswipe sat beside Ratchet in the hold of Cosmos who was hurtling through space on the way to Earth. "That was great."

"It was."

"Those little seekers are really cute. Wait until they can fly."

Ratchet grinned. "They will faster than you think. But it’ll be a while before their little wings mature. When they get youngling aged, they’ll be able to flutter and hop around in short jumps. There’s nothing cuter. I remember seeing it when I was in school."

"I like wings," Sideswipe said. "Our sparkling is going to have little wings. I can't wait to see them."

"Me, either," Ratchet said. "Neither can Prowl."

Sideswipe chuckled. "I think that sparkling is going to be at Granny's house more than usual."

"Which granny?" Ratchet asked with a chuckle. "By the way, do you have a name?"

Sideswipe nodded then leaned over to whisper it into Ratchet's audial in clear violation of the Praxian naming customs of Bluestreak.

Ratchet looked at him with a smile. "Nice."

"We think so," Sideswipe said with a grin.

"Unusual," Ratchet said.

Sideswipe nodded.

It was.

  
  


  
  


** Chapter 150  **

  
  


-0-Diego Garcia

They walked to the shuttle, Ironhide, Jazz, Bumblebee and Smokescreen. Cosmos would take them to Houston to interdict the transfer of the gun to Nast from Shockwave's intermediates, a gang of gun, drug and contraband mercs that operated out of Texas. If you wanted a job done under the radar, you sought them out. They were professionals for the most part and if caught, unwilling to give information.

They loaded up and the ramp closed as Cosmos rose into the air silently, then as swiftly disappearing into the heavens. Lennox and Epps were with them so they settled down into the cordoned off area for humans along the bulkhead that separated the hold from the flight deck. Lennox pulling out his Kindle glanced at Ironhide. "Ironhide, I heard something, a rumor."

Ironhide glanced at Lennox, his expression quizzical. "What did you hear, William?"

"I heard that you adopted the twins." He grinned. "Just a rumor."

Jazz snorted as he glanced at Ironhide with a huge grin on his face. "I heard that rumor, too, Ironhide. Wanna tell us the straight up?"

Ironhide took a moment to access the proper language file, then shrugged slightly. "Ratchet."

Epps grinned. "What Ratchet wants, Ratchet gets?"

"Pretty much," Ironhide said with a minuscule grin. "Got a sparkling."

"And a damned cute one," Lennox said wholeheartedly. "Now you have three sparklings."

"Sort of too big to be sparklings," Epps said. "What do you call over sized sparklings?"

"Son," Ironhide said with a straight face.

They chuckled.

"I’d think with all the hell that those two have given you over the years that you would be the last ones to adopt them," Lennox said as he settled in for the tale.

Ironhide shrugged. "Our race is filled with orphans. All of us are orphans. We're an orphaned race. The twins need something that's theirs. All they need is a firm hand. Ratchet has a great throwing arm."

"He does. I don't think there's anyone in the garrison that doesn't have dents in their helms or chassis that Ratchet hasn't put there," Smokescreen said amiably.

"Every dent was deserved, too," Ironhide said with a proud smile.

"How's the trine going?" Epps asked as his curiosity hoped to bridge the Autobot's legendary taciturn behavior about the personal, The Sexy or the intimate of any kind.

"You know about the trine?" Ironhide asked as his optics narrowed.

"Heard a rumor," Epps said casually.

"Rumors. Where do you hear them?" Ironhide asked.

"From the soldiers," Epps said. "I just … around. I don't mean to offend you, Ironhide. I just hear them around."

Everyone looked at Ironhide who regarded the soldiers for a moment. "The trine is good. The twins and Bluestreak are happy and doing well. All a genitor could hope for."

"That's nice. We don't have trines here. I mean, we have polygamy and polyandry but it's usually not legal where we live and very few do it," Epps said.

Ironhide nodded. "We don't have problems with it. It's sort of an old habit but it happens. Most of the Seekers are in trines. Trines are something Autobots usually don't do. The twins are a special case. They’re split spark twins. They share one spark between them and when one falls for someone the other often does as well. Sort of a ‘get one, get both’ thing."

"Then its biology," Lennox said.

"We aren't organic," Ironhide replied. "It's hard to explain. It just happens and is."

Epps and Lennox nodded.

"Do you expect sparklings from them, too?" Epps asked curiously.

"Sparklings can happen," Ironhide said with images of Prowl and Ratchet coming to mind. "Probably will happen. We aren't so hard pressed here. Things are good for more sparklings than ours."

"That baby is the cutest thing ever," Lennox said. "If my wife saw him he’d be in her lap straight away."

Ironhide smiled. "He is rather awesome if I say so myself."

"And you do," Jazz said. "Often."

Ironhide who was considering how his sparkling and bond were disappearing behind him considered that. "I do," he agreed with a grin.

-0-Intel-Martin HQ Building, Houston, Texas

He stood on the platform with a clipboard in hand. A Ryder truck was pulling into the back of the skyscraper heading for the loading dock. He jumped down and walked toward the truck halting it before it came too far inside.

The driver rolled down the window and leaned out. "Hi. Have a delivery for a Mr. Nast."

"I know. There's been a change of address for the delivery. It's supposed to go to Alamo Storage instead. Do you know where that is?" The dock manager asked.

The driver nodded. "Yes. Across town."

The dock manager handed the driver a paper to sign. As they talked baseball and the weather, the weapon inside the truck was crated and ready for delivery.

To the Autobots.

He handed back the paper then waved as he backed to turn around before heading back outside to the highways and byways of Houston and the storage facility that awaited him.

-0-Investigation

They sat in the Administration Headquarters for the base, Colonel Fulton expediting their requests and access. Prime had allowed the trio to call upon the requested Autobots.

Hound and Trailbreaker walked across the tarmac to the communications hanger where the humans would interview them. They stood outside chatting to the humans who worked there, some of whom were outside for a smoke break. When the investigators left the admin building and headed their way, the effect was the same as it was with everyone who saw a Transformer in the metallic flesh for the first time.

The two in their view were immense bots. Hound and Trailbreaker were extremely well liked and respected by just about anyone who met them. Hound loved the Earth and liked to map and chart the area. He loved the ocean and had charted it long range for 300 miles in all directions of the island. He would turn those over to the base when he finalized them which would be a huge assist given the ships that came into the harbors.

Trailbreaker was a really sweet guy, a big mech who had a slight inferiority complex that had only been addressed in the recent past. He was a high energetic load mechanism. He was massive, bulky, brave and well loved. He also required a lot of fuel to be at peak. Until he’d been modified by Ratchet and Wheeljack, he was concerned about his ability to contribute to the common good. Now, he was relaxed and much happier with his lot. Since both had come together again, they’d been inseparable. With the inclusion of their daughter, Silverbow, life had opened up in the most unexpected and delightful ways.

They were kneeling as they talked together with human soldiers and as their sensors registered Fulton, they arose and turned together to look at the small group as they approached. It was amazing how menacing that motion and their size made the humans feel. The two mechs silently watched them approach, their casual appearance belying the ferocity of their capabilities on the battlefield.

They were two of the bigger mechs among the Cybertronians that weren’t titanic frames with Trailbreaker slightly bigger at twenty-seven and a half feet. Hound coming in at twenty-five feet was square and heavily armed. They were big like all warrior-class mechanisms of their generation. Both carried shoulder modifications that were subspaced when not needed and both used a heavy truck model in alt vehicle form. Trailbreaker also had a weapon rather than a servo at the end of one arm which made him stand out from the crowd.

Fulton upon reaching them began introductions. "Hound, Trailbreaker, this is Mr. Warren Roberts, an investigator from the State Department and his assistants, Ms. Lawton and Mr. Swarner. They’re here to investigate the hit-and-run incident."

Both Autobots nodded noting the organics nervous silent reaction to them.

Hound knelt down and extended his servo. "Mr. Roberts."

Roberts, hesitating, extended his hand to grip one of Hound's digits. "Mr. Hound."

Hound smiled at the extra name as he glanced at the other two. He then stood. "What do you need?"

We'd like to interview you separately," Roberts began. Then he waited as a hummer drove up and Jase Daniels stepped out. Walking toward them, he stopped before Roberts to extend his hand. "I'm Jason Daniels. I carry the brief for the Autobots and the treaties."

Roberts shook his hand. "We're here to do this investigation and right now we’re going to interview these two Autobots, Hound and Trailbreaker."

"Good," Daniels said glancing at them with disdain. "I want to be present."

"You can't be," Roberts said firmly. "We're investigating you as well, Mr. Daniels. That would be impossible to do right with you listening in."

"Why are you investigating me?" Daniels asked incredulously.

"Because these mercenaries are here at your request and they're under your supervision and therefore, by the allegations participants in these alleged incidents. We also have to ascertain if you're negligent in this matter as well."

It was silent a moment, then Daniels pulled out a phone. "We'll see about that."

Roberts, an older civil servant with a tough veneer looked at him. "Go ahead. In the meantime, we'll proceed without you present. I'd like to interview Autobot Hound if I may." He looked up at the green Autobot.

Hound nodded as he grinned broadly. "Sure," he said as both Autobots stepped back so the humans could move forward toward the platform organics used to speak with the Autobots inside the hangar.

Trailbreaker moved slightly to stand by the doorway out of the way of the foot traffic that was chronic for the facility. He looked at Daniels who was arguing quietly on the phone. He dialed in. Daniels was talking to the Majority Leader of the Senate.

Running to family to bail him out.

Again.

Crybaby, he thought in the manner that those who could pull their own weight felt about those who couldn't or wouldn't. He shook his helm slightly wondering what it would be like to live a life of cowardice. He personally would never know and that was just fine with him.

-0-Inside

Hound walked in to stand in front of the structure that held organics, equipment and the investigation team. Fulton who was sitting on a chair nearby watched as the investigators organized at a table and chairs provided for them. Hound who watched them for a moment, turned his helm toward Fulton. He grinned slightly.

Fulton grinned back and shrugged in helplessness. He liked Hound a lot. He was one of the most accessible and well-liked Autobots in the garrison. That this had happened to these two Autobots and had involved two little children had infuriated Fulton more than he’d ever felt before. He was going to be present at every interview. He would advise the Autobots himself to insure that their interests and well-being was truly represented and protected. Their alien viewpoints and ideas about things and how they went wouldn’t be held against them by anyone who might not understand. If they didn’t explain their words as fully as he thought the investigators would understand, then he would. He knew exactly where the blame belonged.

Finally, Roberts walked to the edge of the platform with notebook and pencil in hand. "Please state for the record if you may, sir, your name, your rank and your point of origin."

Hound thought a moment. "I’m Autobot Hound. I’m a scout and reconn expert among other things. I am a mid rank Autobot, perhaps a commander if you had to use your terminology. I'm uncertain how that relates comparably to rank in your army. I came to sentience on Cybertron, my home world in the city of Helex."

"I would like you to explain in your own words what happened on the day that the incident in question happened. All that you can tell us will help greatly in piecing this matter together."

Hound nodded and thought a moment. "Trailbreaker and I finally had a day off together. Our daughter, Silverbow asked to be taken to the beach with her little friend, Spirit, a small mech. They're best friends."

Roberts nodded. He smiled slightly as the calm gentle energy of this agreeable bot began to reach him. "You're a parent to this child, Silverbow?"

"Trailbreaker and I have assumed permanent care of Silverbow. She’s an orphan and refugee of war. Spirit is the youngling of another pair of mechs but I don't have liberty to tell you which ones. Our orphans are all now members of families."

Roberts nodded. "Continue please."

Hound did. "We walked to the beach, the one over that direction," he said nodding toward the east, "near to the runways where the Aerialbots are staged. You saw them when you came in."

Roberts nodded. "Those beautiful white jets with the logo ... your logo on the side."

Hound nodded. "We stepped over the fence the way we always do and walked down the hill and up the stretch to the place we all use. The two kids were playing and I was stretched out reading my stories and making additions to the underwater maps I’m making of the area for the Navy. I want to make the most detailed maps possible for Diego for the ships, to protect the reefs and underwater life against accidents and such. Trailbreaker was relaxing, too. It was beautiful and peaceful for all of us. The kids were really happy, playing in the sand and along the shore. We don’t have oceans on Cybertron like this so its a new thing for the babies. Both of us watched them but let them play together. They love each other, those two."

Roberts nodded. He was becoming mesmerized by the peaceful recitation of this mech. "It sounds like it."

"They came to us from war and starvation. They were together with others, nine in all. Spirit is a brother to two others. The oldest, Rambler, he had to take care of them for a long time since their parents were killed. He had to scavenge food and protect them against ‘Con hunters. It was terrible for them, those babies. Silverbow saw her mother murdered after her father disappeared to get them food. Her mother tried and was killed in front of her and then she was alone for a while. It hurt them, all of them so we work hard to improve things and let them have all the love they need and want from all of us. It’s the Cybertronian way, all of us together raising up the infants. They're precious to us all."

Roberts sobered. "I can see why. Please continue, sir."

"We were having a good day and when they were too far into the surf we called to them to come back. They like to collect things. Silver Bunny has a great shell collection. They did and were standing next to the tide when we heard an engine gunning. A vehicle was heading our way at a frightening pace."

"What did you do then?" Roberts asked.

Behind Roberts, taking notes and manning recording devices as the military staff filmed the deposition as they listened, his aides worked furiously.

"We looked down the beach to see a hummer coming full speed. We jumped up and lunged for the infants. We’re pretty battle hardened, both Trailbreaker and me. We have really fast reflexes and you learn not to fear the hits. You just move on instinct. We caught them and fell forward to land in the surf.

“The hummer caught my ped and spun me completely around, breaking and smashing my ped ...foot and landing us both, Spirit and I into the water. I remember falling into the water and it closing around me. The pain in my ped was terrible. But I rose up and saw that Trailbreaker had Silverbow. He’d gotten up faster than I had and had pulled a weapon. He fired upon and hit the hummer. Then it was gone and we were alone."

"What happened then?" Roberts asked.

"We signaled Ops Center at our embassy. Both of us sent distress signals at the moment we stood up and by the time we were crawling out of the surf our people were there."

"Who were they?" Roberts asked.

"Prowl, our Second-in-Command to the Prime, Ratchet, our medical officer, Prime and the soldiers. There could be more but it was hazy for me. I can't remember if Colonel Fulton was there or not but I remember Major Lennox and Sergeant Epps."

"They should be interviewed," Roberts said turning to his aides. "Make the appropriate appointments if you will."

"Epps and Lennox are on assignment but should be back shortly," Fulton said.

Roberts nodded, then turned back to Hound. "What did you see of your attacker?"

"I saw a hummer coming but the sunlight on the windshield hid the driver. They flashed past, then they hit me. I was so busy trying to save the infants that I didn't look at them. By the time they were driving off, I was hurt. I had a terrified child to think about first and I didn’t know if either Trailbreaker or Silverbow had been hit. I remember being filled with terror and rage."

Roberts nodded. "Who do you think is responsible for this?"

"In my opinion, there’s only one who would do this. The mercs that Daniels has around him would. Before they came, there were no incidents between us and humans both civilian and military. We're a tight unit, N.E.S.T. and us. The rest of the base is good. The civilians and the military here are tight with us. Since they came, they've gone out of their way to provoke us. Even driving trucks into us. There’s been nothing but trouble since they came. Prime ordered us to walk away and take video. Its a good thing this is under Prime’s command. It might not go so good for the mercs if this was some outpost on a world somewhere."

"Have you gone through the other reports on other incidents, Mr. Roberts?" Fulton asked.

Roberts turned to him and nodded. "We have." He turned back toward Hound. "Is there anything more you can tell us?"

Hound nodded. "Our younglings are in danger. Before, they only harassed and attacked us. We can handle that easily because we’re mechs and we’re not afraid. Now they see our infants as targets and that makes us worry a lot. That's going to get someone killed. We don't intend that it’ll be our children."

Roberts nodded. "Thank you, Hound. If we need more information we will call on you again."

Hound glanced at Fulton, then Warren. “Alright,” he said, then walked down the open central corridor nodding to people who called out to him. He then paused by the door talking to someone they couldn’t see in their own language.

Trailbreaker appeared as Fulton called him in over the P. A. system. Trailbreaker, an imposing and inscrutable mech whose optics were hidden behind a visor walked to them to halt before the platform, nodding to Fulton in his usual friendly manner.

Roberts scrutinized him with a deep appreciation of the incongruity of auto-mobilized mechanoidal humanoids. "Thank you, Trailbreaker, for coming here."

"Thank you for caring enough to come," Trailbreaker said quietly. "Our little femme could have been killed. As it was, they were both traumatized and my old mech, Hound, got a wound he didn’t deserve. It frags me off, Mr. Warren."

"We're here to figure out who's responsible and if they can be identified they will face charges if the evidence warrants it," Roberts began.

"What do you want to know?" Trailbreaker asked, not mollified a bit by the assurance.

"What did you see happen?" Roberts asked.

"I saw a hummer coming over the hill bearing down on our kids who were playing without giving offense to anyone. It was their play day and Hound and I could be together with them. It fragged me off that their time could be spoiled like this and it awakened a lot of bad things in both for a while. Both Hound and I were off to one side and we rose as fast as we could and jumped as far as we could to grab Silverbow and Spirit. We landed in the water and I could feel the hummer going past. I also felt and heard Hound getting hurt. When I rose up from the water, I pulled a weapon and shot the hummer. I got a hit but it was over the next hill and out of sight right away."

"What happened then?"

"Everyone came. We sent a distress signal to the embassy and Prowl, Ratchet, Prime, Lennox and Epps were there almost immediately. There may have been others but I don't recall. I just was concentrating on Hound and the younglings."

Roberts turned to the aides. "Could you put in a call for Prowl and the Prime to come speak to this issue?" They nodded then turned to soldiers sitting nearby to page the two. Turning back, Roberts looked at him. "You shot the vehicle."

"Yes," Trailbreaker said. "I got a hit. I’m a slagging good shot, though not as good as Hound and Bluestreak. But I got the slaggers good. Too bad they were gone before I could blow them to bits. I never wanted to land a blast more."

"And the weapon?"

"A plasma gun. I can't tell you more beyond that. It's classified."

Roberts nodded. "Who do you think is responsible?"

"The mercs," Trailbreaker replied. "They tried to kill Ironhide. They’ve been provoking us more than usual lately. That little slagger, Daniels … I heard a rumor that he wants those slaggers to provoke us and make it hard for the treaties. He’s a coward, Mr. Roberts. He hides behind hired guns and has plausible deniability but make no mistake, he orders this to happen. As for the mercs, they're drunk all the time so they don’t give a frag what they’re told to do."

"Told?" Roberts asked.

"The incidents before this were less and more stupid. They weren't organized. They were drunken stuff that you do when you don't have control of yourself and you see a bigger guy. You want to take on the bigger guy to prove something to yourself so you liquor up and give it a shot. I’m one of those bigger guys and I know a little slagger trying to make a mark or a name for themselves a mile away. These several incidents, the last half dozen, they're more organized. I think someone has told them to provoke to make us look in a bad light. I tell you that as a designated Autobot provocateur and saboteur of a lot of wartime experience myself. I know what I'm seeing."

"Who do you think did that?" Roberts asked.

"Daniels. He's undermined us since he came here. None of the slaggers who has his job were worth anything but they didn’t make trouble or being gunsuls with them," Trailbreaker said. "He has no respect, not for us as soldiers and allies. Not for our Prime. Not even for our babies. It’s all galling, especially the disrespect to our Prime."

Roberts nodded. "Can you tell us anything more that we should know about this matter?"

Trailbreaker leaned in, his normally easygoing expression filled with wrath. "Daniels is behind this. Prove it and get him out of here before someone dies because of him. I guarantee you that I won't miss next time." With that, Trailbreaker nodded then walked outside where Hound and now Prime and Prowl waited.

(gunsul: criminal carrying a gun or weapon.)

  
  


Chapter 151

  
  


-0-Prowl

He walked into the hangar stopping to speak to a sergeant, the friend of Arcee's. He told Cindy that she was off world for a little bit longer but would be returning once a short refugee mission was finished. Then he continued walking.

The newcomers watched him, aware that he was a different body type than anyone so far and that even though they’d seen him on the television during the hearings nothing over the airways could prepare them for seeing him in person.

He was shorter than the other two, significantly. Slightly taller than nineteen feet, he was a higher end version of his type which usually fell in the fifteen to seventeen foot range. His paint scheme was stark, white and black and there were designations of a police cruiser on his body here and there along with a proudly displayed Autobot symbol. His expression was solemn and serious, his optics deeply blue. He was very handsome, aerodynamically sleek and well maintained. The chevron on his forehead, a brilliant red was stunning and offset the clean white color of his face and helm in a deeply eye-catching manner. He paused before them, then nodded to Fulton. "Colonel."

Fulton who found Prowl to be tremendously good company nodded back with a smile. "Hello, Prowl. Thank you for coming so quickly."

"It's my pleasure," Prowl said. "I noticed Daniels outside pacing while talking on his phone."

"Calling his granddaddy, no doubt," Fulton said with a derisive snort.

Prowl grinned at Fulton, then he turned to the newcomers, his expression all business once again. "What may I do for you?"

"We're investigating the hit-and-run that happened and would like your information, sir," Roberts said as he considered the elegant alien figure before him. Prowl's voice was smooth and cultured, educated and economical. He wondered if he was like this all the time or only with him. "We need your name, rank and point of origin please."

Prowl nodded. "I am Autobot Prowl. I'm second-in-command of the Autobot Armed Services and sub commander to the Prime of Cybertron. I'm from Praxus on Cybertron which is my home world."

Roberts began to ask the questions. "If you could tell us what you know of events that day, of what you saw and heard as it relates directly to the events we're investigating, we would appreciate it, sir."

Prowl nodded then gathered his thoughts. His emotions were still drawn taut over that moment. "I was in Ops Center in the Embassy when a distress signal from Hound and Trailbreaker reached us. I opened the com line to hear Trailbreaker say that someone had just tried to kill the two infants with them." Prowl said as he quashed his anger. "We immediately deployed, myself, Jazz who was there, I believe, Prime and a couple of soldiers. Major Lennox and Sergeant Epps were there as well.”

"Who is this Jazz?" Roberts asked.

"He's our special ops field commander."

Roberts turned to his aides. "Make a note to have him come to speak."

"He's deployed right now but I will make him available when he returns," Prowl said.

Roberts nodded. "What happened next?"

I remember sliding to my knees, my weapon was somewhere. I remember checking the children. I was terrified for them. Then Hound, I saw his ped and it was mangled. Trailbreaker was kneeling beside me, then Ratchet came. He took care of Hound and then we all moved back to the Embassy and went into lock down."

"You didn't see the vehicle or the perpetrators?"

"No. They were gone when we got there and I don't remember seeing anything when we came back to the Embassy. All we could do was help Hound and the infants."

Roberts noted that. "The vehicle was found underwater."

"It was abandoned. It had also been wiped clear of fingerprints and there have been so many users that any evidence found would be heavily contaminated and thus unsuitable as evidence. I was a police detective delegated to the National Police Force of Cybertron from Praxus before I was recruited into the armed forces. I know about evidence and trials. So we have the vehicle, no evidence of when it was taken from the motor pool and only our suspicions based upon experience."

"And those are?" Roberts asked.

Prowl frowned. "I don't work on suppositions, guessing or assumptions. My process works on facts and reality. But it would be remiss of me not to follow this latest event to its logical conclusions. This can only be the work of the mercenaries that Daniels employs. They’ve wreaked havoc since they arrived and now, now that their focus has widened to include our children, we have to make assumptions even when the facts are inconclusive. I'm not programmed to do that but the level of threat facing us has shifted to include the unthinkable and I must make that step. If I don't, things might go past the point where they can be retrieved."

Roberts nodded. "I've read all the other reports and one could make conclusions based upon that and the fact that there were no reports or incidents before they arrived with Daniels."

"That is correct," Prowl said. "We value our allies greatly and work with them in the greatest of respect and to the fullest of our abilities. We are brothers in arms, the humans here and our garrison. This has been a very difficult thing to bear, the havoc that these people have caused to us. Colonel Fulton must be congratulated on his skill in maintaining order here in the face of daily provocation."

Roberts nodded. "Is there anything else you can offer in the way of information regarding this incident?"

Prowl thought a moment as he considered his three little mechs, Orion, the other children here and the new sparkling that was coming. "We will defend each other and we **will** defend our young. It would be in the best interests of everyone concerned to understand that and to know that if shooting is the only way we can assure that we **will** do it. We profoundly don't wish it but we're prepared to do it."

Roberts nodded. "Thank you, sir. I appreciate your time. Would you please let the Prime know we would like to speak with him?"

Prowl nodded then turned to go, his wings arched high on his back. He walked away and at the door paused to speak to the Prime.

Prime nodded, then walked in. He was massive, gigantic beyond what they had seen so far and his color scheme was striking. He had dignity and power, that elusive thing called gravitas and he moved with a lightness and agility that belied his massive size. He walked up to them, staring at them with his bright blue optics, a wise and appraising gaze. "Gentlemen, I am Optimus, the Prime of Cybertron."

For a moment Roberts just stared at Prime, taking in his exotic features and his amazingly powerful presence. "It's an honor to meet you, sir. I'm Warren Roberts from the State Department and these are my assistants." He introduced them as Prime nodded to each. "I would like to talk to you about the series of incidents that have happened on the base culminating in the hit-and-run allegation."

"I assure you, Mr. Roberts, that it is not just an allegation. It is the most dangerous of the threats we have faced on base in some time."

Roberts nodded. "Yes sir. I’m here to find evidence and to determine who did this so charges, if warranted can be brought forward. You’ve had a long period of time with N.E.S.T. and this base that hasn’t had a single event of this nature," he began.

Prime nodded. "Nothing happened between us until Daniels arrived with his mercenaries."

Roberts nodded. "The first incident involved a mercenary being hauled to your brig."

Prime nodded. "A mercenary called Todd Baseman invaded a beach gathering of our younger soldiers. Given their behavior earlier, I posted a guard and they captured a mercenary who had driven a four wheeler there with a gun."

"They were put in the brig," Roberts said. "They alleged mistreatment."

"They were incorrect. We are professional soldiers. We treated him well and he lied," Prime replied. "The report bore that out."

"Yes, it did," Roberts agreed. "There were other smaller incidents and then an altercation happened in which one of your soldiers destroyed a barracks."

"A soldier walking to the firing range was assaulted by a group of mercenaries and our soldier intervened," Prime replied.

"There would be those who feel that we puny humans can't harm you and that your soldier overreacted," Roberts posed.

"You would be wrong. The soldier under assault had a medical condition and the mercenaries fired upon the intervening Autobot. The report cleared all concerned and the barracks was rebuilt with a finer one replacing the damaged one. I would suggest you tour it before you go."

"I will," Roberts said. "The incident where the mercenaries drove into your soldier, that's pretty cut and dried."

"Yes," Prime replied. "They were at fault but two men died and another one is impaired. All of it could have been avoided. But we cannot make the mercenaries leave."

"That can be modified," Roberts said. "The hit-and-run … can you tell us something about it?"

"We received the distress call immediately and I will tell you personally it was a particularly horrifying thing to hear. The mech involved, Spirit, is my adopted son."

"Yours," Roberts said. "I can only imagine your feelings."

Prime nodded. "We hurried to the spot and saw what had happened. When we ascertained that everyone was going to be fine, I dispatched trackers to follow the trail. They found the vehicle in the ocean eventually. There is no useful reliable evidence on the hummer to aid anyone."

Roberts nodded. "All of the interviewees have stated that the mercenaries are responsible for this and that they feel they’ve been ordered to provoke. Do you agree?"

Prime nodded. "Yes." He shifted, his massive form even more evident to the onlookers.

Fulton grinned. Optimus Prime was impressive in every measurable way.

"For the past few weeks the mercenaries are gathering around our embassy, just over the line that marks the limits of our protected space. Yesterday, one of our soldiers whose job is to maintain security was accosted by a hummer filled with mercs. Two had the good sense to leave and the other two didn't. They crossed over into our territory and we took them into custody. They were drunk and currently they are in our brig."

"They are?" Roberts said with surprise. "Would we be able to speak with them?"

"Yes," Prime said. "We can take you there when you are ready."

"After this interview, I would like to do that, sir," Roberts said. "Colonel Fulton and Lieutenant Graham have all supported your statements. I want to speak to Major Lennox and Sergeant Epps when they return and to the mercenaries in your brig. Then I’ll be speaking with Jason Daniels."

"He will be difficult," Prime said. "Apparently his father and grandfather are supposed to be important."

Roberts grinned broadly. "That's what I’ve heard, too."

-0-Brig, Autobot HQ

They stood before the brig, all around them were enormous Autobots accompanying them. The mercenaries seeing the first humans since they were picked up jumped up and were clamorous in their vocal outrage.

Roberts who looked at them with something close to disdain held up a hand. "I want to speak to each of you separately."

Prime spoke to Inferno who agreed.

"If you will go down the hallway I will bring them one at a time, Mr. Roberts," Inferno said.

Roberts nodded as he and his team walked away.

Inferno who looked at the mercs with disgust turned off the bars to Tim Bolton's cell. "You’ll walk to the delegation, talk to them, then come back here. Don't make me have to carry you. You won't like it. Do you understand?"

Bolton nodded, then meekly and soberly walked with his jailer until he reached the humans. Inferno stepped away and the four were alone. Bolton looking around fixed his gaze on Roberts. "You have to get me out of here."

"You're on the sovereign territory of a sovereign nation who has treaty agreements with our country. I couldn't get you out of here even if I wanted to. Which I don't at the moment. Tell me the truth and maybe I might care more. I want to know about a number of allegations that have been leveled against you. I want truthful statements."

Bolton stared at them. "I'm an American citizen."

"And you're on foreign soil. What makes you think being an American is a get-out-of-jail card? You're liable for your conduct on foreign soil under their rules and laws. Fuck up, face **THEIR** music. Now are we through here?"

Bolton who was fidgeting with outrage nodded. "What do you want to know?"

"Did you drive a hummer in an attempt to strike two Autobot children?"

"No," Bolton said.

"Did you commit offensive aggressive actions and cross into the sovereign territory of the Autobot Embassy enabling your incarceration here?"

He looked at Roberts. "I was drunk. I was stupid. I maybe crossed their line. You can't see it. There's no line anywhere to see. I was drunk and harmless. You see them. How can I harm them?"

Roberts regarded him. "Did you drive or were you a passenger in the hummer that tried to run down two children a couple of days ago."

"No," Bolton said as his features radiating his defiance. "I want a lawyer. Or something. I want out of here."

"I can't do that," Roberts said. "Only the State Department can facilitate that. I will relay your wishes to Daniels."

"You tell that **little twerp** that we want **out** of here and he **better** do it."

"Or what, Mr. Bolton?" Roberts asked quietly.

"Or he **will** be sorry," Bolton said.

They stared at each other, then Roberts looked at Inferno with a nod.

"Let's go, Bolton," the massive Autobot said as he stepped back into the space.

Bolton with an angry glare focused on Roberts walked back to his cell. A more chastened and frightened Thomas came next. He stood before the group trembling slightly. "Can you get us out of here?" he asked.

Roberts shook his head. "You're on sovereign soil of a sovereign nation. We can't."

Thomas groaned then looked around fearfully. He turned directly to them. "You **have** to. You're American and so am I."

"That doesn't help," Roberts said. "Truth will help. How about you telling me who was driving the hummer that tried to kill those children."

Thomas's head jerked up, his gaze fixing on Roberts. "I don't know a thing."

"You'd do yourself a lot of good if you would tell us the truth. At some point someone’s going to crack and whoever speaks first gets the breaks."

Thomas looked at him with uncertainty, his gaze wavering. "I don't … I don't know."

"You don't know what? Who did it or whether it's smart to say? Smart is talking. Not talking is stupid. Tell us the truth and do yourself some good."

"What good? Jail? Prison? How can **that** be good?" Thomas said.

"It'll get you out of here," Roberts said. "You can stay here or you can leave. It's in your hands. I just want the truth."

Thomas looked at him considering his words. Then he shook his head. "I don't know."

Roberts sighed. "You can go back to your cell then." He glanced at Inferno and the big mech nodded back. "Move, Thomas," he said.

Thomas jolted out of his momentary funk glanced at them with fear. Then he walked back to his cell.

An aide moved next to Roberts. "He's about to cave."

Roberts agreed. "He is. Let him have a few more days in the brig. I think he's our weak link to the truth."

The others nodded then walked back the way they’d come.

  
  


Chapter 152

  
  


-0-Houston

They landed and drove off, heading for a storage locker where they had arranged for the weapon to be placed. It was easier than going to Intel-Martin directly so they made their way through traffic to the Alamo Storage Facility. Dark was coming upon them and it made it easier to pull around to the back to wait until the businesses and warehouses around them closed and the people went away. There was the odd remark about the awesome cars parked here and there but after a while it was quiet.

-0-Diego Garcia

Ratchet walked through the rec room with Orion firmly in his arms to enter the Ops Center. He walked down the command deck toward Prowl.

Without a word, Prowl who was doing three things at once swept Orion into his arms and with a nod to Ratchet turned back to his tasks.

Ratchet with a fat chuckle walked out the door to the N.E.S.T. HQ where the investigation team had returned so he could give his testimony.

The sun was warm overhead and the sound of seagulls could be heard beyond the base as he sauntered over. Re-directed to the administrative communications hangar, he entered to walk inside, pausing before the speaking platform and the huddle of humans there upon.

Fulton looked up and grinned, rising to walk to the edge to stand closer to the tall white medico. "Hi, Ratchet. Where's that little baby of yours?"

"He's with Prowl," Ratchet said with a grin. "He's sort of got sparkling fever."

"I heard," Fulton said turning to the investigators. He introduced them.

Warren Roberts stepped forward. "I'm very pleased to meet you, Ambassador," he said with a smile.

"Thank you. I'm glad to meet you, too. You're about the fifth person for the fifth incident to whom I've had to give testimony."

"So I gathered," Roberts said with a grin. "If I may, sir, could you please tell us what happened regarding the hit-and-run incident?"

Ratchet began. Again. "I got the call from Ops Center in the embassy that there was an incident at the beach and that there might be injured, including infants. I think that my spark stopped for a moment, then I grabbed a medi-kit and ran as fast as I could go to the beach. Prowl and Prime were there among others when I reached them and began to render first aid. The babies were hysterical with fright and Hound was down with a mangled ped. He'd been hit by the vehicle. Everyone was in shock and everyone was frightened half to death."

"Did you see the vehicle?" Roberts asked.

"No," Ratchet said shaking his head. "I cannot tell you much beyond the damages to the mechs and the lingering effect this has had on the sparklings. They already were severely harmed by their experiences prior to this. We've all worked hard to let them know that they're safe, that we'll protect them and then this happened. I wish I could tell you how angry our soldiers and all of us are about this."

Roberts nodded.

Ratchet leaned in. "I have a sparkling, the little black mech that you might have seen in the pictures I showed during the last hearing."

"I saw them. He's a very adorable child," Roberts said.

Ratchet nodded. "He's the soul of my existence. If anything happened to him nothing would be standing on this island, people or buildings that wouldn't be destroyed."

Roberts nodded. "We're interested in reaching the truth as much as you are, Mr. Ambassador. I'd like to know if you have any ideas about who might be responsible."

"I do," Ratchet said calmly. "The trouble began with Jason Daniels. When he came with bodyguards, something I find hard to reconcile with the levels of security of this facility, things went downhill. I can only assume he has some reason to have them because of his feelings for us. We don't mingle with non-military related civilians much when its clear that our company is somehow offensive to them. All of the civilians that are part of our scope are those who work with us for other agencies and whom we hold in very high regard. Daniels is the outlier. He's the odd man out. He's the focus of all the problems and I believe that he asked the mercs with him to provoke us to cause trouble."

"Why?" Roberts asked.

"To break the treaties, to break the trust, to break the alliance between us and the soldiers of N.E.S.T. and Colonel Fulton's base. He wants to divide us and get the Autobots out of the treaties because he hates us for reasons of his own. He does not have the best interests of this world in mind when he does. You couldn't defeat the Decepticons without us. No one ever has."

Roberts nodded. "Would you be able to supply medical reports related to this incident to us?"

"I'll ask our Prime. Most of that's classified information. I'll seek his advice and abide his decision," Ratchet answered.

Roberts nodded. "Thank you, Ambassador."

Ratchet nodded then grinned at Fulton who was grinning at him. "You've shown them what washed up in our brig?"

"I have," Fulton said with a chuckle. "They've met."

Ratchet looked at them. "Lucky you."

Roberts grinned and nodded. “Lucky us.”

-0-Med Bay, Autobot City, Mars

They sat on comfortable chairs talking quietly together. In the incubator three tiny Seekers resided growing ever bigger every day. Starscream had taken to spending all of his time in Med Bay watching over them. It was quiet there and he was mostly alone except when the shifts changed. The medics made themselves busy and seldom did they cross paths.

It suited him at the moment. Sitting here singing to them, watching and waiting for them was a balm to Starscream's confused state of mind. He wanted to be around them as much as he could because he knew in the end Megatron would come eventually and it would all be over. He didn't know how this was so. He just knew that it would happen. So he sat beside them taking care of them, softly singing as he watched them. He memorized every detail. He knew in the end it was all he would get.

Sky Warp who was sitting nearby watching him was sick in his spark. Starscream was so in love with the babies it made him happy to watch. But he was also confused and weakened. He felt that he only had borrowed time and try as they might they could not get him to think otherwise. He sat with Starscream alternating with Thundercracker most days and as he waited he made a list of concerns. When Ratchet got back to remove the hatchlings in three orns he was going to ask him a number of things. Maybe there was something they could do to help Starscream believe that he would have a future after all.

Until then, they sat and watched their hatchlings. It was quiet and peaceful in their corner of the med bay on a base on an empty planet, in a small undistinguished solar system on a spiral arm of a very, very big galaxy.

-0-On the way

They left the fortress heading out into deep space. The distance between them and the refugees was at an optimal point. Radio contact had told the Autobots that they were looking at shuttles bearing 210 refugees guarded and supported by 40 Autobot soldiers. The specific content of civilians and soldiers was unknown at lift off but they were prepared for anything.

The shuttles carrying the refugees were operational but had gone through a lot and were in need of repair. The plan was to offload materials in flight and make repairs as they returned to Autobot City. Scanners were flung wide in all directions. Everyone was alert. This group was precious and important but they weren't especially useful to the Decepticons. The mini-con village that was following them, they were the ones that Shockwave would fight for, so they flew toward each other locked and loaded, optics wide open as they went.

-0-Texas

A big brawny man stepped out of the shadows walking with a smaller one. They were dressed casually and strolled along the path that led to the storage facility. Behind them, a tall handsome African-American male followed. The three of them passed the gate of the facility, then stepped off to move into the shadows between the two buildings. They paused for a moment then looked at the gate nearby.

"Do you have the key?" Will Lennox asked.

The two Autobots looked at him. their bright blue eyes strange to see in human faces. Although they were human appearing, they still seemed to be the Autobots they were. "We have the code. All we have to do is punch it in, get the device and leave." Jazz looked at Ironhide. "You ready?"

Ironhide watched as Jazz walked out of the shadows to punch in the code in the keypad at the gate. The gate opened and slid back allowing entrance. Behind them driving slowly as the three walked inside, Smokescreen followed in vehicle mode. Walking along the rows of small storage rooms they reached number 412. Pausing to look around as Jazz disrupted the security cameras through WIFI, they keyed the pad. The bin's door slid up and out of sight. Entering, they found a small wooden box sitting on the floor.

Lennox walked to it and knelt. "Can you scan this?"

"Already did," Ironhide said moving to kneel beside him. "Nothing inside but a plasma rifle." With his large hands he removed the lid off the box to look inside. Nestled in the straw was a black rifle of Decepticon design. He picked it up to look at it carefully. "It's all here," he said with a nod returning it and the lid to the box proper.

He picked it up, holding it in his arms as the three walked out to where Smokescreen was waiting. He popped his trunk and Ironhide put the box inside. The lid closed as Smokescreen moved onward heading for the gate. The others pulled the storage bin door down, walking for the gate themselves.

"Well, that was an easy one," Lennox said with a grin.

"Too easy," Ironhide grumped looking this way and that as they left the facility. The gate closed behind them and they disappeared into the darkness. After a moment, several vehicles drove onto the street and faded away into the night. Behind them with his signature dampened and his vehicle mode altered, Barricade followed.

-0-Med Bay, Diego Garcia

He wandered in walking to the back to park himself on a chair in Ratchet's office. Putting his peds on the desk, he waited. Ratchet who was nearby running data on a series of patients that had been radioed back from the rescue team, turned to look at him. "Hey."

"Hey."

Ratchet set the program to determine the probable course of treatment then walked inside his office to sit himself on the chair behind his desk. "Did your genitor ever tell you it wasn't polite to put your peds up on furniture?" he asked putting his own up.

Sunstreaker smirked. "No. Neither did yours, apparently."

"They did. I just didn't listen. Apparently."

Sunstreaker smiled then his expression faded. "Not quite three decaorns now."

Ratchet nodded. "Wheeljack and Perceptor are fabricating your sparkling's protoform today and tomorrow. The paint scheme will be last."

"I want it shiny."

"It will be when the spark is transferred. Until then it'll look gray."

Sunstreaker nodded. It was quiet a moment. "I hate this."

Ratchet grinned. "I know."

"Where's Orion?" Sunstreaker asked looking around.

"With Granny Prowl," Ratchet said with a chuckle. "I had to go testify to the investigation team so I left him with Prowl. I went to get him and Prowl said they were bonding so I left him. Feels kind of lonesome."

"Everyone wants him. You sort of get left out," Sunstreaker said.

"I do," Ratchet said. He pouted a moment. "I can only pout that long. I'm not Ironhide."

Sunstreaker smirked. "He's a bit of a sparkling isn't he."

"Completely."

It was quiet a moment. Then Ratchet leaned forward. "What's on your processor, Sunny."

He looked at Ratchet. "I ..."

"Yes?" Ratchet asked grinning slightly at the big mech’s social ineptitude. Mech should have a flaw.

"This thing that you said … about being our genitors ..." Sunstreaker halted, his verbal ability falling into limbo once again. He frowned.

"You're ours, yes," Ratchet said. "Unless you're having second thoughts."

An intense gaze met Ratchet's, a deeply emotional one.

"Ironhide and I were talking the other night. We want to get the paperwork done and formalize this. That is, if you and Sideswipe are up to it."

Sunstreaker nodded, his gaze focused on Ratchet like a laser. "We would."

Ratchet turned to the computer to pull up a screen. Moving through interfaces, he reached the place he wanted. Then he turned the screen. "I already filled it out. All it takes is your electronic signature and that of Sideswipe. Ironhide and I have already signed. See?"

Sunstreaker leaned in and saw their glyphs as well as the spaces for both Sideswipe and himself. He sent it, the glyph for his name appearing in the appropriate space. Then he sat in silence in apparent internal conversation. As he did, the glyph for Sideswipe appeared on the screen in the box next to Sunstreaker's.

Ratchet smiled and hit the accept data key. The screen signaled that the paperwork had been submitted and accepted. He sat back to look at Sunstreaker who was sitting back himself, his demeanor at last relaxed. "Done. Son."

Sunstreaker smiled.

Big.

Genuine.

Open at last.

-0-Bluestreak and Sideswipe

Bluestreak was standing at guard duty on the east turret of the fortress. The news came through the link and he smiled, pulsing back his intense love for both. The sun was up and the sky was a lovely shade of orange. He had walked through the citadel to duty and had passed Med Bay. Pausing to step inside, he walked to the incubator where the Seekers were resting and growing.

Starscream watching him without comment, remembered Bluestreak from something but he couldn't remember exactly where.

Combat probably.

The others had told him that he was a brilliant air commander and had fought valiantly in many battles. This was surely one of those opponents.

Bluestreak smiled as he looked at the colorful little hatchlings.

Nearby, watching with a vigilant and slightly frowning expression, Sky Warp waited, poised for any possibility. Thundercracker, himself more composed watched also.

"What pretty babies."

Starscream sat forward in his chair to rest his elbows on the arms. "They are beautiful."

"I love their colors, Starscream. Seeker babies are so cute."

"They are. From birth," Starscream said with satisfaction.

"How long until they can fly?" Blue asked as he looked up at Starscream.

"It won't be for a while yet," he replied softly. "They won't have the strength and their wings take a while to … what is it that Ratchet said?" he asked looking up at Thundercracker who sat in a chair nearby.

"Mature, Star," he said quietly.

Starscream nodded then looked at his infants with intense love and delight. "Then they will fly. It will be glorious."

"I hope I see it," Bluestreak said.

"I do, too," Star said quietly.

Bluestreak glanced at the Seeker noting his melancholy expression. "Why won't you, Starscream?"

"Megatron," Starscream said quietly. "He will come and find me."

"No, he won't. Not here. We won't let him."

Starscream looked at the Autobot, at the young face staring at him with a determined expression. It was an odd thing, he thought, Autobot concern for a Decepticon commander. "Do you think so?"

"I **know** so," Bluestreak said determinedly. "We won't let him come here. He won't come here. We’d shoot him on sight. Count upon it. No one is going to hurt you or your hatchlings, Starscream. My adopted genitor is Optimus Prime. You should know by now he won't allow it."

Starscream looked at Bluestreak silently as he considered his words. "That **could** be true."

"Count on it. I won't let them, either. **None** of us will. You're refugees here along with the rest of us. We're all one or we aren't. At least here."

Starscream looked at Blue, seeking the guile or the backdoor to the lie but it wasn't there. "I will have to think about this. I do not trust Megatron not finding a way."

"He'll have to run an awful gauntlet, Starscream," Bluestreak said quietly. Then he arose to go. "I love your hatchlings. I'm glad we have some here. This is home now." Then Bluestreak walked to the door and left.

Starscream watched him go then sat back to consider his words. The two Seekers watched him noting a minute change. Then Thundercracker got up and walked out the door. Starscream watched him go then turned back to the Seekers. Maybe it could be possible to see them grow up. He didn't know how and most of his processor was convinced otherwise. But the Autobot had told him that they'd be protected. Anything could happen, he thought, even as he was still convinced that Megatron would come for him in the end.

Bluestreak took up his post and for a moment was alone. Then he saw Thundercracker standing nearby.

The Seeker was silent, then walked toward Bluestreak. "Thank you for what you said to Starscream. He needs to hear that Megatron won't come and kill him. He's convinced he will."

Bluestreak frowned slightly. "We won't let it."

Thundercracker shifting his peds awkwardly as he stared at Bluestreak. "You're welcome to come anytime you wish to see the hatchlings. And if you want to talk to Starscream about … things … you may."

Bluestreak nodded. "Thank you. I will."

Thundercracker nodded then walked away into the facility once more.

Bluestreak watched him go then took up his post again. The sky was beautiful, the atmosphere calm. He watched the clouds swirl and form around the top of Olympus Mons on the horizon far away and thought about Seekers flying in the sky, filling it with their beauty and grace.

The day rolled on.

  
  


Chapter 153

  
  


-0-Diego Garcia

They rolled off and transformed, the crate with the weapon held firmly in Ironhide's arms as they walked to the embassy. Waving to the soldiers as they parted ways, the cool interior of the embassy beckoned. They crossed the rec room and entered the Ops Center, traipsing across the command deck to the middle discussion area. Sitting at one end of the room with Orion on his lap, Prowl looked at data screens. One of his digits, his thumb was stuck in Orion's mouth and the infant was sucking on it as he sat and played with his own tiny servos and a soft stuffed dollie.

Ironhide put the box on the table then smirked at the S.I.C. who seemed to be the least likely individual in the garrison who’d be so completely overtaken with infants. They were comfortable, Ironhide could see, and the mellow little sparkling was halfway to recharge.

Prowl turned around to do something then grinned. "You're back and the weapon?"

"A plasma rifle of Decepticon design," Ironhide said smirking at his sparkling. "Lost his binky?"

"It's around here somewhere," Prowl said looking around his stack of datapads to find it. "We misplaced it earlier."

Ironhide grinned. "He likes to suck on everything he can get. Ratchet's afraid he'll put something bad in his mouth."

Prowl pulled out his thumb and turned the sparkling around, holding him up. "He was a good little sparkling. We did a lot of business today."

"So I noticed," Ironhide said taking the infant as Prowl rose to hand him reluctantly over. "Anytime you need to drop him off, I can take him. We make a good team," Prowl said grinning at the infant as Orion smiled at Prowl.

"He's a team player. I'll have to show you his moves. I told Ratchet already. Sparkling's got skills."

Prowl chuckled. "I can see that," he said handing the binky over.

Orion opened his mouth and in it went as a smile greeted that maneuver. They grinned at him like they were both his genitor, which one of them was. Then again, one of them was a genitor, one was a genitor-in-law and a shirttail genitor of the sparkling in question as evidenced by the relationship to the shirttail genitor's youngling being bonded with the adopted sparkling-adult mechs of the genitor himself. Being in-laws, the sparkling in question was thereby a sparkling of the in-law genitors as the sparkling-to-be from the trine, a combo of relationships that tied the two sets of genitors together and would be a cousin of the sparkling now at hand.

Or something like that.

Maybe.

Ratchet paused by the door on his way to Med Bay. He sauntered in with a grin on his face. "I see you made it back." He nodded to the box. "Is that the weapon?"

"It is," Ironhide said settling 'Spud' into the crook of his arm, the sparkling cackling a long string of clicks, spoings, pops, chirps and other sweet sparkling nonsense as he did. They looked at him like genitors, which in fact it turns out they all are. (See above.)

"You know, Ironhide, between you and Prowl, that sparkling is going to grow up and think you're the real genitors and I'm just that sexy doctor who checks his debris valve on occasion," Ratchet said with a chuckle.

Prowl chuckled himself as he squeezed Orion's servo. "I'll have my own squeeze toy shortly and we can sit together and swap tales."

"Me, or you and Ironhide?"

"Whoever wins that day," Prowl said glancing at the door as Prime walked inside.

Stopping by the three, he grinned. "I see the sparkling is running the show again."

"Yes, he is," Prowl said with a grin. "Won't be long until there's another one. I. Can't. Wait."

"We know," all three said together. They laughed then turned to the crate.

Prime pulled out the weapon. "A simple plasma rifle," he said turning it over as he examined it.

"Some of the parts can't be manufactured here," Ironhide said. "I suppose they could reverse engineer a few things out of it but it really isn't that useful to humans."

"They would have to learn the hard way," Prime said. "Even if this is out of their league it is enough to some to have it." He put it back in the crate and levered the lid back onto it. "This should go in the armory. We will hold it in the event that it needs to be discussed in a civil or criminal action. In that case, Ironhide, you would be the one to speak to it."

Ironhide nodded. "It seemed easy, Prime. It may just be me but it seemed so easy."

Jazz having come in behind Prime agreed. "It was the easiest pick up I've ever done. I don't trust Shockwave. I don't know if he's figured this out or not. But it felt way too easy."

Prowl and Prime nodded.

"We need to monitor all frequencies to try to pinpoint all the Decepticons left on Earth. The Seekers said that there were seven active. That doesn’t count the symbionts. Barricade is still there. Then there are six more. We need to find them," Jazz concluded.

Prowl glanced at Teletraan II. "I'll get on it."

Prime stared at Prowl who was squeezing Orion's ped. He grinned. "That will be good."

Prowl nodded absently as he grinned at the sparkling.

Ironhide grinned at Prime as he shook his head. They stared at Prowl enjoying his fixation when he noticed.

"Oh, right." Then he walked to the computer.

Ironhide snickered. "Better watch yourself. It's a sickness."

Prime who knew the truth of that remark looked at the crate. "We will send this to the armory." He looked at the two of them, a small sparkling and his big one. "Why not go and play, the both of you?"

Ironhide chuckled then looked at Ratchet. "Wanna come?"

Ratchet smirked. "Sure," he said as the two of them walked out together.

Prime watched them go then joined Prowl in his search.

-0-Med Bay

They sat in Ratchet's office catching up. Orion sat in his old dad's arms, recharging with his plushy dollie in hand.

Ratchet with his own peds on the desk grinned. "You look happy."

Ironhide said, "The mission was easy, no one was shot and I got the sparkling. Just about perfect."

Ratchet shook his head. "You got more than one sparkling. The twins signed the adoption papers. They were filed and Prime notarized it this morning. They're officially ours."

Ironhide glanced at the baby. "That's good news. Orion has brothers."

"And a nephew as the humans put it. Their sparkling is now his nephew."

"And Prime and Prowl … they're his grandgenitors, too. I think."

They both thought a moment then Ratchet pulled a datapad from a stack and pulled up a clean screen. "Prime and Prowl have three younglings, who for the sake of argument using human terms are cousins to our three, Sunstreaker, Sideswipe and Orion. Or are they nephews and uncles? I think they're brothers-in-law. Maybe."

It was silent a moment as Ratchet wrote things out. "Okay. Here we go. Bluestreak, Rambler, T-Bar, and Spirit are siblings. The three little mechs are brothers-in-law of Sideswipe and Sunstreaker. Their little mech, the trine, will be a nephew of the three little mechs. Now, since the twins are now ours, that makes us genitors-in-law to Bluestreak the same way that they're genitors-in-law to the twins because the twins are ours. Orion is a brother-in-law to everyone but their little sparkling because he's that sparkling's uncle. No one is an uncle to our sparkling. Our sparkling is an uncle to theirs. Every single one of them is an uncle or genitor of their sparkling including ours. We're grandgenitors of their sparkling. See?"

Ironhide looked at Ratchet blankly. "You lost me at 'here we go'."

Ratchet chuckled. "I think I lost myself, too. Just remember, you're one of four grandgenitors of the new sparkling. Everyone is equal in relation between everyone else among all the younglings but that new sparkling. The twins are ours and we share them with Prime and Prowl since Bluestreak is theirs and Prowl and Prime share him with us. We're legally a related family, Ironhide. You're now a related relation in a relationship with your relative, Optimus Prime."

Ironhide smirked. "If you say so, Ratchet."

Ratchet smiled. He did.

-0-Shockwave

He received the message from Barricade and found himself uncertain. He had taken the usual precautions in backing up all the backups with back ups. Not one to believe anything he couldn't see with his own optics, Shockwave had delegated Barricade to follow the weapon wherever it went. He had made arrangements for it to be loaded onto a truck and taken directly to Nast's headquarters in Houston. When it had arrived, he’d been assured. When it had been diverted, he’d been surprised. When Autobot holograms had carted it out of a storage facility that they’d diverted it towards, he’d been thrown off his game.

He had very little understanding of humans and their psychology, their behavior and their machinations. He had no specimens to learn from and all of the carefully laid plans of Starscream were long distance. Giving Starscream credit, he was impressed with the inroads that usually high strung and self-sabotaging individual had created. It allowed him to do what he needed to begin to bring this planet to its knees.

Now he had to consider what this all meant. Nast must be somehow under the sway of the Autobots. Nothing in his resume could be made for that case. He was a predator, a malicious money-hungry killer who profaned everything in his life to make things happen his way. He even used his God to justify and ameliorate the things he did. That sort of individual he could understand and found useful. This, however, was not something he figured into his thinking so he paced the ship, walking slowly from end to end and back again as he considered what it meant to the end game.

-0-Ironhide and Ratchet later that night

"So he told me that he wanted to read it when it was finished. He wanted to know if he was in it."

Ratchet chuckled as he turned over to look at Ironhide. He and Orion were stretched out on the berth, a towel lying nearby from the infant's bath. They were playing 'get the dummy grenade', which was rolling back and forth between them. The screaming fit that Ratchet had given Ironhide the first time he’d seen it in the little toy box in the corner had been epic and Ironhide had taken pains to show his now white aft slagger that the grenade indeed was empty of explosives.

"Really, Ironhide, **whatever** am **I** going to do with **you?** " Ratchet had raged, holding his sparkling closely as he did.

Ironhide, chastened and silent let Ratchet rage and when he was through sat on the berth to play Orion's favorite game, 'get the dummy grenade' anyway.

"I'll let him read it."

"Read some of it to me," Ironhide said grinning. "I want to hear the greatness that is you."

Ratchet grinned. "I wouldn't go **that** far, Ironhide, although there’s never been a sexier doctor in the whole history of Cybertron than this one."

"You won't get an argument from me," Ironhide said with a snort. He grinned as he looked at Ratchet scroll down to an appropriate place to recite.

"And Prime, dependent upon the expertise of others because of his otherworldly purity looked to the smartest person on his staff, the sexy Doctor Ratchet. "Ratchet," he said, secretly coveting the doctor not so secretly, "what can we **do**? I haven't got **any** idea of what we should do. I'm … I'm **completely out of my depth**. Maybe **you** can spare me some of your great wisdom."

Ironhide snorted. "I can see that."

"Hold your applause. It's hard enough on the tanks to write this let alone read it out loud."

"I can see that."

Ratchet continued. "It was clear to the doctor that the proposal of the Decepticons to end the war was something that Prime couldn't decide for himself. Selfless bastard that he was, what was asked of him was even more than he could do given his limited life experience with bastardy. In the end, not everyone was as smart as their doctor, so Doctor Ratchet whipped out his prescription pad and dispensed wisdom to his deeply conflicted Prime free of charge."

Then Ratchet paused his recitation, checking a few grammar bits and a comma or two here and there.

Ironhide looked up. "Well? What did you tell Prime? And what's so bad that Prime can't figure it out?"

"He has to bond with Starscream."

Ironhide chortled then bellowed a laugh, catching his sparkling as he jerked with surprise and almost fell off the berth. "Prime and Screamer? What about Prowl? What about us? You don't think **we'd** let him do that do ya?"

"Let me continue."

"Please do. And don't forget about Bumblebee. You left him with Wheeljack who 'got blowed up' and he had fifteen sparklings in his tank. By the way, I told that to Prime and I thought he’d throw a rod."

"He liked it?" Ratchet asked with surprised delight.

"I don't know about that but he finds you deeply twisted."

"Poor sparkling. He's just figuring that out **now**?"

"I told him," Ironhide said. "Keep reading. Your sparkling likes fantasies."

Ratchet peered at his infant who was lying on his back playing with a grenade as his genitor patted his fat belly. "I can see that. Where was I?" He checked his datapad and began again. "I think that there's no way out, Prime. I think that to end this war you have to put out."

"Put out what?" Prime asked.

It was silent in the conference room as all of the mechs present looked at Prime.

"Put out … you know ... 'face," Jazz said.

"'Facing?" Prime asked again.

"Interfacing," **even Perceptor said**.

"What's interfacing?" Prowl asked as he looked at them then Prime, his onliest only beau of about nine million years. "What are they talking about, Optimus?"

"I have no idea, Prowl," Optimus replied looking with deep chaste love and platonic appreciation at the adored and untouched object of his longtime love and deeply repressed highly held personal regard.

" **ALL RIGHT! EVERYONE OUT OF THE ROOM**!" Doctor Ratchet yelled, rising up to kick everyone out including Jazz who had to be pried off the doorjamb by three other mechs. Ratchet out of the corner of his eye looked at the two sparklings still sitting at the table with looks of infinite confusion on their sweet unsullied faces and felt the doom of Unicron go up and down his shapely backside. When everyone was gone, Doctor Ratchet frowned. **"YOU TOO, SHORTY!"**

The Mom Van, so short you had to look down to see him rumbled out, grumbling as he began to leave. "Ah cud be a big halp, ya big sexy slagger."

"Ah don't think so, you little runt." And with that the Sexy Doctor punted the Little Red Mom Van out of the room and slammed the door. Turning to the two virgins sitting at the table chastely holding hands, he shook his head as the light glinted off his gray chevron *just so*. "Oh crap," he said softly.

"Med Bay to Ratchet."

"Ratchet here."

"We need you, Ratchet. We have a broken back strut."

"What the frag happened?" Ratchet said as he switched off the story.

"It was a wrestling match at the beach. Nothing bad. Just the usual stupid."

"On my way," Ratchet replied, grumbling as he leaned down to kiss his sparkling. "I'll be back."

"What about the story?" Ironhide asked.

"I'll read it to you when I get back. I'm taking it so you don't cheat." With that, he walked out the door.

Ironhide watched him go, then looked down at his sparkling. He grinned. "That slagger," he said leaning down to kiss his sparkling. "Prime's only half right. That’s one truly and deeply twisted mech."

Orion chirped and grinned.

  
  


** Chapter 154 **

  
  


-0-Later that night

He crept in, glancing in the direction of Orion's crib. Then he walked to the berth, bumping into the table and off the edge of the berth. Ironhide who was watching Ratchet with night vision grinned. "Get over here, you slagger."

Ratchet grinned back. "Where are you, you big oaf?"

"Here," Ironhide said gripping Ratchet's backside to pull him down onto the couch. They sat together, untangling arms and legs. Then it was quiet.

"What are you doing on the couch?"

"I was waiting for you."

"Really, Ironhide? How thoughtful. You don't have a shift tomorrow."

"No."

"No wonder."

[Pause]

"You know, Ratchet … we haven't fragged in a while."

"We haven't. You wanna?"

"I do." [huge grin]

"Oh."

[Pause]

"I was thinking about you flat on your aft and me making noises on top. You look real good, Ratchet, lying on your aft. I can almost see myself in your chevron it's so shiny."

"Is that so?" [smirk]

"Sure." [grin]

"I was sort of thinking about you sitting in that chair over there somewhere and me sitting on top of you making my own noises, Ironhide. Discreet noises. Can't wake up the sparkling."

[Pause]

"That might be fun but I think it would be **more** fun with you laying on that table there and **me** on top."

"How about **you** under the table and **me** riding you, Ironhide, like a motorcycle?"

[Pause] [Shift]

"What are you doing, Ironhide?"

"Makin' my move."

"Is that what this is?"

[Shift. Move. Move. Lay. Crunch]

"You just broke my backside."

"Are you okay, Ratchet?"

"Probably. But really, Ironhide, this couch is too small and you're just too big. How about you moving … this part … and then I move over a bit and then you do this … **CRONK**!"

[Pause]

"What happened?"

"Ratchet, I think I broke **my** backside this time."

"Ah. Want me to kiss it?" [grin]

"Not a bad idea." [grin]

[Move. Sit up. Shift. Shift. Sit.]

"That was fun."

"Ratchet … how about you and me trying something else. How about you and me on the floor, you upside down and me right side up."

"You've been on the internet again, Ironhide."

[Pause]

"No. I just saw an ad."

"An ad?"

"Yeah. Two mannequins were posed that way and it sorta stuck in my processor."

"Is that so. So you want to frag a mannequin."

[Pause]

"No. I just want to put a little variety into the old berth, that's all, Ratchet."

[Pause]

"Not that we need any variety you know."

[Pause]

"Being as you’re my Only One and such a sexy … uh, sexy doctor and all …"

"I love it when you crawl, Ironhide."

"I know you do, you fragger. How about moving your elbow. It's in my privates."

"Is that what that is? I haven't seen your privates in so long, Ironhide, that I forgot that part of your body was there."

"Been a while. Probably needs a dustin'. How about you dust it for me, Ratchet? A little servos on action." [leer] [Which doesn't count because Ratchet doesn't have night vision on]

"Servos on. I love it when you beg. You're so cute."

"I am. My uh, my little buddy needs some love."

"Orion's sound asleep. I think it can wait."

"Ha-ha, Ratchet. Not **that** little buddy." [Takes servo and plants it on his other little buddy] " **This** one."

"Ah, your little trap door. Is it rusted shut? Maybe I can get some WD-40 and a buffer. Or maybe I can use a chamois."

"How about your glossae? Nothing like the personal touch."

[Shift. Move. Kneel. **Ping!** Slide. Silence. Kissing sounds]

"You mean like this?"

[optics roll around even as he can't see a damned thing] "I don't know, Ratchet. I can't see a slaggin' thing."

"Well then, I guess that's no good." [Rises. Sits]

"What are you doing back here? My buddy is down there."

"You said you can't see."

"I don't **have** to see, Ratchet. It's all right if I don't see."

"But I can't see either."

[Pause]

"You really are a fraggin' slagger."

[grin] "Ah, Ironhide. You say the nicest things."

[Pause]

"I still need a good frag and so do you."

"How about we do it with some danger? How about you and me do it on Prime's desk?"

"He'd have my bearings, Ratchet."

"There's always Wheeljack's closet. I do remember you spent a bit of time in there a while back."

"You would, too, if a crazy fragger was after your codpiece all the time."

"So … you hated fraggin' then but you want to frag now?"

"No, I didn't hate fraggin' then." [Pause] "Well, maybe a little. You put a lot of pressure on a mech."

"I did. I wanted a sparkling. **That** sparkling over there. I wanted it now and not when **you** decided, you big slagger. If I'd waited for you, Ironhide, I'd still be waiting."

"True. Didn't feel it was safe. Not for a sparkling. Not for you."

[Lean] "Ah, you're so sweet."

"Didn't do me a bit of good. Still did what you wanted."

"I can't help it if you're a big wussy."

[Pause. Check through slang language files. Grin] "So I'm a wussy now."

"You wouldn't have the sparkling. You wanted all the fun and I got to scream my head off."

"Looked like it hurt."

"It did. I remember seeing a comedian talking about how she was getting all the pain and her husband was just standing there. She thought it would be equal if he was on the gurney next to her getting a wax."

[Pause. Checking relevant files] "Ouch."

"I think so."

[Pause]

"How do you want to frag, Ratchet?"

"Well … how about on the berth?"

"Good idea."

[Rise. Walk, bump table, find berth, crash down together and start to make out]

"Your knee is in my crotch."

"I know."

"But not in a good way, Ironhide."

"Oh. How's that?"

"Better."

[Sounds of passion for a moment or two]

"Did you hear anything?"

"That's the sound of love, ba-bee."

"Is that what that was? I thought it was Orion, Ironhide."

[Pause. Both listen. Baby rustles. Baby settles. Silence reigns. Snoggling begins again]

"Oh, Ironhide. You're so hot."

"I’ll try to vent it, Ratchet."

"No. Hot means handsome, doable. Sexy."

"Oh. Well, you're pretty hot yourself."

"Ironhide? You're the cutest mech I ever met."

"You aren't so bad yourself, Ratchet."

"I know."

[Snickers. Sounds of love and passion continue. Groans grow, moans grow, sound of the berth creaking, sounds of Ironhide revving, sounds of the intercom beeping]

"Med Bay to Ratchet."

[Pause]

" **WHAT THE FRAG DO YOU WANT, YOU SLAGGERS!"**

[Pause]

"Ironhide, let me answer them."

"Alright."

" **WHAT THE FRAG DO YOU WANT, YOU SLAGGERS!"**

[Pause]

"Uh … we have a bent … someone ... that is, they … we need you, Ratchet."

[Pause]

"I hate them."

[Pause]

**"ON MY WAY!"**

[Silence. Venting]

"I have to go, Ironhide."

"I Know."

"I don't want to."

"I know."

"I'll be back."

"I know."

"What else do you know, Ironhide?" [grin]

"That we're not going to frag, slag it."

"You’re a mind reader."

[Move. Climb. Slither over. Fall on floor. Lay there seething. Rise up and stagger to the door. Pause. Look at the general direction of the berth] "Be back soon."

"No you won't."

"I know. Love ya, Ironhide."

"Love ya more, Ratchet."

[Door opens and white aft slagger leaves. The room feels colder and darker. Big shadow rises to walk to crib. Takes out tiny bundle and walks carefully back to the berth. Settles in, sets proximity sensors and alarms, then settles in. Grins] "Your old ada is the best old mech I ever knew."

[Infant on lines optics and looks at old dad. Grins. Then goes back to recharge. And after a while so does Ironhide]

  
  


Chapter 155

  
  


-0-Autobot City, Mars

He transformed at the gate then walked inside with Sideswipe and Sunstreaker. They veered off to look for Bluestreak but he was headed for Med Bay. Today was the big day. Today was the day that the Seekers would join the world outside of their hatchling pod.

He nodded to mechs he knew, smiled as little younglings ran past playing some kind of game and as he finally reached Med Bay, walking past shops and work spaces filled with civilians doing needed and necessary things, he almost felt like he was back in Iacon for a moment. Entering, he met with First Aid for another update.

They’d hooked the sensor network of the hatchling pod up to Teletraan III, the supercomputer than ran Autobot City. It sent the information generated to Teletraan II, the supercomputer that was the heart and soul of the Diego Garcia Ops Center. It was then routed to his desk computer in Med Bay. He was as versed in the hatchlings as if he’d been here all along. Caught up, he walked to the nervous group huddled around the incubation pod.

Starscream sat in a chair wringing his hands. Standing behind him, Thundercracker and Sky Warp waited anxiously. Less anxious but more uneasy and wary, Dirge, Ramjet and Thrust sat or stood nearby.

Ratchet knelt down before the pod to check the dials. Then he smiled at Starscream. "You look ready."

"I am," Starscream said. "It is time."

"Yes, it is," Ratchet said rising again. He moved the pod toward a berth that had been laid out for the hatchlings once they were lifted out of the fluid bath that was their home. Ratchet checked his equipment and the ample supply of warmed towels that were waiting. There was a warm bath basin that had circulating water. It would be where they would go once they were lifted out. It would soothe their way into the world. He looked at the nervous group. "Come closer. You should see everything. It's wonderful."

Starscream arose with tense excitement. They brought his chair as all six of them came closer. Starscream sat down and clung to Thundercracker's servo, his eyes never leaving the pod. As he sat he began to sing softly a song for infants that was designed to comfort.

Sky Warp knelt down beside him to listen, his gaze fixed on the infants who were large and active. As Starscream sang they slowed their movements until they were quiet and ready for transfer into the world they would call their home.

Ratchet waited until they were quiet then lowered the lights, punching in the code for the hatch to open. It did and the aroma of energon, a rich nutrient bath that was their home for a decaorn filled the room. It was sweet and soothing, intended to grow them and give them comfort. Then with soft gloves slipped onto his servos to protect the babies, Ratchet reached down into the mixture and found a hatchling. He stroked its wings, gently caressing it, then felt the snap of the umbilical that had anchored him to the device and fed him over the decaorn.

He slipped his servos gently around it to lift it up as energon cascaded away from its tiny form. Holding it up and face down, energon poured out of its mouth, a slight cough expelling the last of it. Ratchet patted its back making sure it was cleared out. Then turning to the bath, he lay it into the swirling warm water. The hatchling became cleaner and cleaner until its markings could be seen. He rubbed it gently with his gloved servos, getting it as shiny as a new penny. It was the one that bore Starscream's colors. It was tiny and looked at Ratchet with red optics, its little arms moving as its tiny servos clenched into fists.

Washing it off, dribbling water over its little face to gauge its reaction, Ratchet lifted it out to place it on a heated towel. He patted and bundled it, checked it over with a scan and a visual, then held it out to Starscream. The expression on the Seeker's face was stunning to Ratchet and he wondered if his own had been similar.

Starscream reached out to gently take it, looking at the little mech before holding it against his cheek. He had stopped singing, then he began again, telling it in their own way that they were welcome and loved.

With a big grin, Ratchet turned back to the process, pulling out a tiny blue and purple mech and one that was blue and white. He wrapped them after their bath and gave them to Thundercracker and Sky Warp. He sat on the edge of the med berth as he watched the happiness that had settled onto the group. A quiet joy seemed to suffuse everyone and it muffled the greater world outside the doorway.

Paused in the doorway nearby watching silently, Ratchet's own trine stood.

Bluestreak stepping away to walk in quietly and kneel down beside Starscream. He smiled as he looked at the infant, reaching out to hold the Seeker's little servo. "He's so pretty, Starscream." Looking at the others he smiled again. "They all are."

"Seeker infants are **especially** pretty," Starscream said proudly. "They're among the most **beautiful** infants **in the universe**."

"I can see that," Bluestreak said wholeheartedly. "May I show them to my trine mates?"

They looked at the big mechs in the doorway, two of the biggest enemies they’d ever incurred and the coneheads were clear in their reaction what they would say. However, Starscream, ever the iconoclast nodded then carefully lay his infant into Bluestreak's arms.

Bluestreak rose gently, then smiled at the twins. "Come and see this baby," Blue said kissing the Seeker on its tiny forehead.

The two glanced at Ratchet who nodded. Entering, they gathered around Blue to look at the tiny bundle in his arms. Blue who smiled at Sunstreaker offered the infant and with a momentary hesitation Sunny took him, cradling him gently.

"He's so small," he said grinning at the baby. "Hard to imagine you were ever this small, Starscream."

"Hard to imagine a lot of things," Starscream said distractedly. "Who could have imagined this moment? Ever?"

"No one," Sideswipe said. "Maybe it's about time."

"Maybe," Starscream said in quiet agreement. "Maybe it is."

For too short a time they quietly enjoyed the sacredness of the moment, then they handed the infant back to Starscream. Stepping to one side, the three of them watched as Ratchet checked each baby, told them how to care for them, attached feeding tubes to all six of them as per the instructions of Starscream, then assisted the trines in gathering up the infants to go home to the barracks beyond. They walked out slowly, Starscream in the middle, then headed down the corridor to their home.

Ratchet stood in the doorway watching them go, then grinned at the trine still there. "I think I'll follow them. You never know. There might be a mini-con lurking and if they were stupid enough to do anything now I don't think with two Seeker trines protecting their hatchlings that there would be two molecules left if they did."

The twins grinned, following Ratchet as he walked ahead of them. The Seekers made it to the barracks and went inside with Ratchet following. While Ratchet was inside, the three walked to the bench and sat with Bluestreak between them.

The gunner placed his servo on Sunstreaker's chest. "How do you feel, Sunny?"

Sunstreaker shrugged. "Same as ever."

Bluestreak nodded. "Only two and a half decaorns. I can't wait."

Sideswipe nodded as both of them watched Sunstreaker anxiously. "Neither can I. I see Orion and now these babies … the younglings back home … I can't wait to see our little sparkling. I can't wait to see how cute his little wings will be."

"It will be **fraggin'** cute. Those wings? There will **never** be wings like that ever, anywhere," Sunstreaker said.

Bluestreak hugged him. "No, there won't. Never, anywhere."

Even Sunstreaker had to smile.

-0-Lydia Nast

She woke up that morning, walking downstairs in her dressing gown. Her children were heading off to high school and they drove themselves. Breakfast, a ritual begun and ended with a prayer was finished up and a listing of after school activities between the small family group outlined. She kissed them goodbye as they left, driving off in expensive cars to their private Christian high school.

She watched them go, then went inside to instruct two maids and her cook about the day's activities. Going upstairs, she chose her garments and showered. Dressing and doing her daily grooming routine, she eventually walked down the stairs to the living room. Mail was stacked on the table so she perused it, frowning again when there was nothing from her husband. There were adverts, a letter or two from college friends, confirmation of the Ladies Retreat her church annually presented and a number of correspondences for her husband.

She put them aside and walked to the doorway, pulling out her jacket as she gathering her purse and cell phone. Stepping through the kitchen, she passed her staff to enter the garage. Sitting down in her BMW, she exited then pulled out into her driveway. A short spin to the street led to the highway as she drove onward toward town. Behind her, life went on as usual.

-0-On the way back later that same day

"I really liked the little Seekers," Sideswipe said sitting across from Ratchet next to his brother as Cosmos jetted back to Earth.

"I love infants period," Ratchet said. "Those little Seekers are the first I've seen since I was young."

"It's a good thing," Sideswipe said. "I hear that Starscream wants to send a message like Prime did. I hear he wants Prime to help send it."

"Optimus has agreed," Ratchet said. "I'll let him know when we get back that he can. Starscream is probably up to it by now."

"How's he doing?" Sunstreaker asked. "He doesn't seem to be the same mech."

"He isn't," Ratchet said. "He had a lot of processor damage from beatings from Megatron. Some of it's slowly rewiring and some slowly compiling. How much of some things he'll get back, I don't know. The others are worried. They dislike the loop he's in, the one that tells him Megatron will come and kill him no matter what. They asked if I could do something about it."

"Can you?" Sideswipe asked.

"Not in his condition. He's a miraculous set of rewires and shunts. If I try to meddle in what he has going on now I could do something really bad to him. We have to let his processes continue and see where they end. When they can't repair, they'll stop. Then we can do something. Right now, he's slowly rewiring. I want that to continue."

Sideswipe nodded. "I’d rather be dead than be like him."

"Yeah," Sunstreaker said.

"You were almost like him more times than I can tell you. I almost couldn't repair you a few times. That's what happens to you when you act before you think," Ratchet said.

They both grinned at him.

-0-Lydia Nast

She drove to her hair appointment and got a manicure and pedicure. After that, she did a little shopping, finding a scarf that was particularly attractive. Leaving Hermes, she drove to the restaurant where she would meet her two sisters, her three best friends and two sisters-in-law for their weekly brunch. Brenners was crowded but they kept a table and found themselves deep in conversation about all the things that wealthy church-oriented women talk about. Three hours would pass before she would leave to drive to her husband's office.

-0-Diego Garcia

He walked to Ops Center, the twins on his heels. Bluestreak wouldn't be coming home on rotation for another three orns. Moping about it, they stuck to Ratchet teasing, joking and generally being over-sized adolescents bugging their genitor which if one thought about it for a moment or two fit all three to a tee.

Entering Ops Center, Ratchet and his entourage walked to the command table to halt before Prowl and Prime who were conducting business from the big table. It was getting to be a habit. So was the little black and yellow sparkling perched in Prowl's lap.

Glancing up, Orion held out his arms so Prowl reluctantly surrendered him.

Ratchet grinned at Sunstreaker. "Notice where this sparkling was. Expect to find yours there most days."

They grinned.

"There's three new Seekers in the world and Starscream says he's ready to make his call."

"Are they as cute as I've heard?" Prowl asked a smile on his lips.

"Cuter," Ratchet replied.

Prime grinned. "We will have to send something to them. I do not know what it will be but there must be something that Seekers give each other at a hatching."

"I'll look it up and send it," Prowl said.

"Won't be long now," Ratchet said affixing Sunstreaker with a smirk. "You'll have to make appointments to see your sparkling. Sort of like Ironhide and me."

Prowl grinned. "If you're trying to make me feel badly you're not going to succeed. I'm guilty as charged."

-0-Lydia Nast

She left her husband's office and drove home, parking in her garage. Walking inside, she dropped her purse and keys on the kitchen counter, then looked at the headlines of the newspapers laying out. The staff had left earlier, their days off always on her girls day out. She stood in the silent house, then walked to the stairs. Halfway up, the phone rang. She paused, debating letting it go to the service but changed her mind. She walked back down, pausing to reach for the phone.

-0-Ops Center, Diego Garcia

Red Alert who was monitoring the various players involved in the conspiracy frowned. He listened again, then ran a diagnostic on the link. It was what it was, so he caught Prowl's optic. Prowl listened to Red explain, then he checked the data himself. For a moment, he considered the possibilities, thinking about it from one end to the other. Then he walked out, heading for Optimus's office.

-0-Med Bay

Ironhide who was making his rounds minus his sparkling made his way to Med Bay. Entering its well lit and spacious confines, he noted that Sideswipe had Orion and Sunny was getting a checkup diagnostic. "How did it go?"

"Three adorable little hatchling Seekers," Ratchet said with a smile.

"I can imagine Starscream is one happy slagger."

"He is. So is the trine. The other trine? Moody slaggers each one of them but Starscream's trine, they're happy," Ratchet said pulling each of the plugs in Sunstreaker. "You're good to go, Sunny. Everything is right on schedule."

"And when is that? When is **this** … over?" he asked slipping off the berth.

"Two decaorns. Twenty days."

"I won't be able to help get Shockwave."

"Absolutely not," Ratchet said. "Even if I said you could Prowl won't allow it. By the way, how did he get the sparkling?"

Ironhide grinned. "Got within range. Prowl's grabby."

"I noticed," Ratchet said. "Mech needs a sparkling."

"He's got four. A normal person would think that’s enough," Ironhide said affixing his sparkling with a gimlet optic. "Mechs oughta get their own sparklings if they want one."

Sideswipe who was holding Orion stuck his lower lip out. "Aw. Poor thing. I think you're so cute when you pout, Ironhide."

"That's no way to talk to yer genitor," Ironhide said taking Orion as Sideswipe handed him over. He grinned at his sparkling and his sparkling grinned back. Tucking him into the crook of his arm, he sat back on a med berth completely contented.

"You're such a sparkling," all three of them said together.

He grinned.

So did Orion.

  
  


Chapter 156

  
  


-0-Ops Center, Diego Garcia

The senior Autobots and the soldiers of N.E.S.T. stood around Teletraan II watching the report on the screen. It had dominated the local news in Houston all day and had filtered into the mainstream media a short while after it had happened.

-0-Earlier

She stood in the silent house absorbing the emptiness, then walked to the stairs. Halfway up, the phone rang. She paused, debating about letting it go to the service but changed her mind. She walked back down to reach for the phone.

It would be the last thing she would ever do.

-0-Ops Center, Diego Garcia

The sound of the odd machine spinning data punctuated the room's intense silence as they watched the police and fire department of Houston respond to the explosion. It had leveled the house, tossing it into the air to reduce it to match sticks. A brilliant fire had burned fiercely then extinguished itself almost immediately, apparently running out of fuel.

People stood around the area in shock, houses nearby had broken windows from the intensity and size of the blast and no one was going to stake a position on either why or how such a thing could happen. It was all too preliminary.

Because of who Nast was, federal bureaus such as the ATF, Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms as well as the Federal Bureau of Investigation, the FBI, and other relevant officials were there including the Texas Rangers and local municipal departmental figures. The press was out in force talking to neighbors who were chatting to news people, mostly about speculation. There was even some saying this was payback by extremists for the company's terroristic behavior in the Middle East. Everyone official was denying it was anything more than a simple explosion, possibly related to a ruptured gas line until more was known.

What was more important to everyone concerned was the notion that one or more bodies had been pulled from the rubble. Some said one. Others said it was Nast and his wife. No one seemed to know for sure.

Those watching in Diego Garcia were pretty clear that the body was Lydia Nast or one of their three teenagers. The senseless overkill, the terrible finality of the act, the idea that Shockwave might be aware of them, all of it had changed the temperature of their effort and gave them pause.

"Pretty big blast," Ironhide said swaying gently as he rocked Orion to recharge. The infant was lying in the usual place, his optics twirling around in that comical way that all infants in every dimension seemed to have when they fought sleep. "I'd say it was a triggered explosion."

Perceptor and Wheeljack nodded. "It could have been when she turned on a light or anything that she would do without a thought. What a large explosion as well."

"Yes," Wheeljack said. "It burned furiously, then went out. There's a lot of fuel lying around there but the fire went out and didn't touch that. Decepticon technology."

"Shockwave either knows or was spooked by Nast. I do not know which it is but I do not like any of it," Optimus said his voice as cold and hard as steel. "We can not assume that he has not gotten a glimmer that something is wrong."

"Or maybe he felt Nast had outlived his usefulness," Prowl said as frown of worry formed on his handsome face. "It could be that he's tidying up loose ends like he did with the informant on the last operation."

"That could be true," Optimus said. "We must go with the idea that he knows something. How much, we can not hazard. But we can take it as a precaution to not underestimate what he has figured out."

"Who's going to tell Nast that his wife is dead because he was playing around with Decepticons?" Ratchet asked quietly.

No one spoke a moment, then Optimus looked at Red Alert. "Red, bring Mr. Nast to the conference room."

Red nodded, pulling the many plugs that he normally used when listening from fifteen to thirty different channels of information and video at the same time. He rose and left.

A solemn Sideswipe slipped in to take his place.

"Ratchet, Will and Niall, I would like you to come with me. I think Mr. Nast needs to know." Optimus rose, his optics lingering on the screen. Then with the humans in hand, literally, the group walked out of the room.

-0-Nearby

Everyone on base had heard of the explosion and speculation was rampant about what this could mean in relation to their apprehension or destruction of Shockwave in less than two weeks' time. Besides that project, a film crew and interviewer had secured access to the base for a broadcast story about the Autobots in nine days. In three, Andrea Hoxley, Senator of California and eight of her committee colleagues were coming for a two day long visit to see for themselves some of that legendary cooperation between humans and Cybertronians. It was a full schedule. How this would turn that around no one knew.

-0-Conference Room

Three comfortable chairs were sitting on the table with Lennox and Graham occupying two of them. The senior Autobots were sitting in other chairs around the table when the door opened and Red Alert entered, carefully carrying Nast on his hand. He gently put him on the table then stepped back, watching with dark emotions as they all turned to him.

Nast, for his part sat in the chair looking back at everyone including the soldiers with a wary expression. "What?" he asked, his voice on edge.

"Mr. Nast," Optimus began, then he considered what he would have to disclose. "There is no easy way to tell this to you so I will be direct. This morning there was an explosion at your house. It was blown up and your wife who was inside was killed."

It was intensely quiet as they watched Nast digest the news. He looked at them, then the soldiers, then Optimus once more. Rising, he walked toward that end of the table slowing to a dazed finish before he reached Prime. "What are you **saying**?"

"I am saying, Mr. Nast, that your home in Houston was blown up this morning and your wife, the only one in the house at the time was killed. I am very sorry."

He looked at Prime then all the others.

Ratchet punched a button on the screen behind him. A news report of the house in shreds, the body being removed from the house in a body bag and speculation on who did it and where Nast was filled the room. He looked at it disbelievingly, then turned to Prime. "What? How could this happen? Who did this?"

"We believe that Shockwave did it," Optimus replied softly. "We believe he either knows you are working with us or he just feels you no longer have value to him."

Nast looked at him. "But I went to the meeting. I did my part. How could he know about this? About all of this?"

"Shockwave is no fool, Mr. Nast. He's a very logical, rational, utterly devious and ruthless individual. He sees nothing more of killing humans than you do when you swat at a mosquito," Prowl said, his voice cool and calm. "You should understand if not then, then now that he's a sparkless murderer."

Nast walked back to the chair to sit heavily. Then he started. "My kids."

"They were not at home," Optimus said.

Nast deflated with relief, then looked at Optimus. "I have to go home. My kids … I have to see my kids."

"We cannot allow that. That blast was meant for you. Shockwave wants you dead. If you show yourself, your children will be put into danger," Optimus replied. "It is better for your family in the short term to believe that you are dead. If Shockwave thought you still lived he might use them to find you."

Nast stared at Prime with devastation on his face. "What do we do now?"

"We sit and wait. We have a meeting in little more than two weeks. We need to have it," Prime said.

"And me? Do I hide out here or what?" Nast asked leaning back as he closed his eyes.

"You will stay here and he can think you are dead or not," Optimus said. "We have people in Texas working to make that the story that comes out of the explosion. We want Shockwave to believe he killed you."

"Why did he do this? I was working for what he wanted," Nast said.

"Maybe he got all that he thought you could provide. Maybe he figured it out. We do not know yet what this means but we intend to find out. In the meantime you will remain here. We will have a medic visit you if you wish."

Nast stared at the floor. Then he nodded absently, looking around as if he were lost. For all intents and purposes, he was.

-0-Med Bay

Ratchet sat uneasily as he looked at his computer screen wondering about Houston and all that it could mean for everyone in the room. Then the news came through on the in-house bulletin board. The Aerialbots and the rescue teams had reached the shuttles bearing the refugees and the forty Autobot soldiers.

They were in pretty good shape and included a number of well-known Cybertronians, skilled and unskilled, elders and a number of very young ones as well. The soldiers included two surviving Wrecker crews, a number of munitions and weapons experts as well as young and old Autobots from back in the war around Cybertron.

They were sending information as fast as they could including encrypted messages for Prime rumored to include the locations and status of Omega Supreme and Metroplex. Some speculation, all of it unfounded as of yet seemed to point to the refugees following this group. It was believed to say that the mini-cons were being transported by Omega Supreme and Metroplex themselves to ensure that Decepticons didn't get their hands on the incredibly vulnerable and infinitely valuable potential power links.

Only Prime would know and he didn't have any words to offer those bold enough to ask. Only a grin and a shrug when asked. It was enough to give a bot a processor ache.

Ratchet considered the reports, all preliminary on the medical condition of the refugees. They were in reasonable condition so his presence at Autobot City was on standby. He was glad. He was getting close to Sunny's separation and being home with the fam was that much more important than usual.

He smirked. The fam. Humans and their cute words, he thought. Then he thought of Nast, grieving and alone in his brig cell. Even if he knew that Nast was a predator, that he caused orphans to bloom in the desert like roses, he still felt badly. Rising to walk to the door, he waited for Ironhide to pass by on his security rounds. Mechs came and went as Ironhide finally came into view with Orion tucked into his arm sound asleep.

Ratchet stepped out to join him and they spent the next hour walking in Ironhide's route, pausing here and there to chat with the hordes that filmed and followed them as he made his scans and checked his internal checklists. The afternoon would pass by quietly.

-0-Daniels

He sat with the investigators and got pelted by their questions. It was clear that they had taken a side, he thought and that the side taken wasn't his. Reports littered the table, reports that were book marked and highlighted. They spoke of drunkenness, carelessness, provocation and an immense lack of professionalism that bordered on and sometimes crossed the line of criminal behavior. It appeared to Daniels that they were painting the bulls eye onto him for everything that had happened on Diego.

It infuriated him as he threw back into their faces his connections and disdain for 'salaried men'. It was a tossup who hated who the most when they adjourned. Walking across the tarmac toward N.E.S.T. from the Communications hangar, Warren Roberts was thoroughly pissed. "I don't care if his father is God himself. This man is unfit for service in his capacity."

"It appears that a pattern of harassment is unfolding, Warren," his aide, Milton Swarner said.

"I agree," Roberts replied. "I think it's time to remove these people from this island."

They continued onward toward the soldier's barracks where Bobby Epps and Jazz were waiting, lounging in the sunshine just behind.

-0-Sunstreaker

Pausing in his drawing, Sunstreaker felt the sparkling whirling around his spark, chasing himself with exuberance. He felt it, the strange burst of life within his chest, then he felt something else for the first time, a tiny pulse of joy so bright and shiny that he dropped his pencil. He off lined his optics as he felt it shimmering between them, the enormous front liner and the tiny silvery spark of life that had been created in love and joy and was theirs.

He sat back, leaning against the bulkhead and felt the sparkling try to communicate with him. They knew of each other, Sunstreaker only begrudgingly acknowledging the numerous times that the flickering speck of joy had called to him. The speck of life didn't seem to mind that his creator was conflicted. In its perfect world, it had all it needed.

Sunstreaker put his servo on his chest, feeling the flutter of the sparkling and the steady pulse of his own spark. They were united. They were one. He hadn’t been alone, truly alone since this had happened and even if he’d been less than attentive to this spark, the little one was entirely attentive to him. For him, there was nothing else that existed.

So Sunstreaker sat relaxed, the sketch pad to one side as he shuttered his optics to commune with the little one who would be his in less than two decaorns.

  
  


Chapter 157

  
  


-0-Med Bay

He sat in Med Bay pondering the turn of events that had thrown a cocked hat into the planning of the meet up with Shockwave. In the brig, their prisoner sat in grief, his misery the most authentic thing they’d seen of him in all their dealings thus far. It had been shocking and sad to hear of the calamity of his wife but it was unsurprising in many ways because that was how Shockwave operated. No loose ends. Ever.

He stood up and walked from his office to the corridor outside. The trip to the brig was short and a nod to Inferno got him past the guard post. The five other prisoners acknowledging him with wary looks watched as he stopped before Nast's cell.

Nast was sitting on the floor, his back against the wall and his gaze focused on nothing in particular. He looked defeated and injured, the grief he couldn't spare for anyone else in a long career of killing and maiming people often for no reason at all coming home to roost all at once.

Ratchet knelt down to look at him. Scanning confirmed his depressed nervous and immune systems. This had hit home in a way that nothing else ever had, Ratchet thought. "Mr. Nast."

He looked up at Ratchet. "What do you want?"

"I came here to find out what **you** want," Ratchet said. "I can send people from the military to see you if you can tell me who you would like. It might help you if you do. Perhaps a priest or whoever you choose to help with your spirit."

"What do you know about my spirit?" Nast asked. "What do you know about God?"

Ratchet considered his remarks. "I know that solace can be sometimes found in a belief and it was my impression that you had pretensions to belief of some kind. I can bring the relevant spiritual adviser if you wish it."

"I thought you didn't talk about God and religion," Nast said with a trace of bitterness in his voice.

"We don't. Not with outsiders," Ratchet replied. He considered Nast. "You consider yourself religious but it doesn't seem to give you solace. Perhaps if someone could come and talk with you it would help all around."

"If they have a Baptist minister, I'll speak with them," Nast said quietly. "If not, no. I don't want to talk to anyone."

Ratchet nodded. "Do you wish a physician? Your overall functioning isn't optimal."

"My wife was blown up by a godless demonic entity," Nast said rising to his feet. He walked toward Ratchet and stopped at the bars. "She was blown up by your kind. I think my 'overall functionality' difficulty is understandable."

Ratchet nodded. "Perhaps." He thought about the fate waiting for Springer and Arcee if they’d failed to find them but held his fire. Obviously, Bill Nast was a very low vibrational sort of person and he wouldn’t have the slightest idea or interest in learning about his own hypocrisy.

Nast stared at Ratchet, his emotions raging across his face. "Why did you come here, freak?"

Ratchet having dealt with grief on a constant basis his entire life gave Nast a pass again. Grief makes conventional behavior and manners superfluous for a while. "Because I'm a physician. Your suffering is something I have a duty to assuage if possible. And if not me, then someone else."

"I don't **need** your help. I don't **want** your help. All I have gotten from you and your kind since you got here is grief," he said, rage informing his voice.

"You’re the architect of your own situation, Mr. Nast. All that has happened has happened because of you and your choices."

"I don't want to talk to you," Nast said coldly. "I did everything you made me do and this happened anyway."

Ratchet nodded. "I will get you someone to talk to." Ratchet arose, leaving the way he came. The walk to the N.E.S.T. HQ was short but it felt like it took forever. He peered into the window and. "Jesse, do you think that you can send a medic and a chaplain to see our prisoner in the brig? I think it would help."

Jesse nodded as she jumped up to hurry to the window. "I will, Ratchet. By the way, when can we see your sparkling again?"

Ratchet chuckled. "You need to talk to Prowl or Ironhide. He's usually with one or the other."

Jesse laughed. "So I see. Who would have known Prowl was so crazy for sparklings?"

"Prowl has always loved younglings and sparklings. He raised Bluestreak from a youngling. He could have put that Blue in an orphan center but he didn't."

Jesse nodded. "When do you suppose there will be a sparkling for Prowl?"

Ratchet chuckled. "Oh, you never know. Maybe sooner rather than later."

Jesse grinned back. "Dibs," she said with a chuckle.

"Good luck with that," Ratchet replied with a knowing grin.

-0-Autobot City, Mars Ops Center

Ultra Magnus signed off with Optimus, the two discussing the approaching refugees and the Autobots that were guarding them. Two full surviving Wrecker crews was a great lift. Springer was charged with integrating them into the garrison along with Kup.

The refugees were a mixed group, some of them well known before the war. Two architects and a Senator from Kaon were rumored to be among them although the information still wasn't firm. There were younglings of all ages, a number of elders and a big mix of civilians who were either fleeing all this time or who had tried to be neutral in a war that allowed no neutrality.

The Autobots were young and older, some of them reported to have been the last to flee the fall of Cybertron after the loss of the world to Megatron. They’d been among the last to stay following the effort of Prime to seek the AllSpark and all the resulting hunter teams that followed him into space.

The mini-con village fleeing their way was said to be with Omega Supreme and Metroplex although that wasn't clear either. No one could tell more than that they’d 'heard about it from someone' passing the message onward. When they reached radio range of the Autobots they’d passed it forward as well. The joy of that being true was something that few of the senior Autobots could depend on.

Disappointment was their friend.

He considered his preparations for a contingent that was larger than any other was so far and felt confident about his efforts and that of the city. Once they arrived they would find out. Not only would they know if what they’d prepared for was adequate, he would also know whatever they could tell the garrison and Prime about the world beyond this one. It would be good to know. They would be better prepared for whatever Shockwave or even Megatron might have in mind for them.

Walking to the rec room, he joined Kup and Springer for dinner. All around him people went about their business and children with their genitors could be seen. It was easy to feel at home here, he thought. It made his load feel much lighter. He entered and took his energon, winding through the tables of mechs to settle with his friends and companions of countless battles. Tonight was a good night to be Cybertronian.

-0-Ratchet and Ironhide

"And so I asked the femmes to send over people to speak with him."

"You're way too soft sparked, Ratchet," Ironhide said dripping water over Orion's head. The sparkling sat in his washbasin splashing the water with his servos and chirping to himself. "The Cons were trying to get weapons to Nast when I got shot in Denver. You're wasting your sympathy on that one."

"True," Ratchet said lowering his datapad, the one with the epic saga of a medico and the little short twerp that was shooting too far above his own class for his own good, "The Sexy Doctor and the Mom Van". "I still feel badly that someone can be that lacking in empathy that he can mourn as tragic his own loss but see nothing in giving youngling children to his men and his clients as some sort of perk."

"He's where he belongs," Ironhide said. He looked at Ratchet. "Remember, these people were targeting our sparklings. They were going to kill Spirit and Silverbow. If you ever weaken imagine Orion being a target for them."

Ratchet nodded as he stared at the sparkling that in an instant had become the center of their mutual happiness. Ironhide had become the best caregiver ever and they had achieved something both wanted but never expected. They’d become genitors of a nice, mellow, happy sparkling. "He's an awfully cute sparkling, that one."

"He's the cutest."

"Sunstreaker might think his is," Ratchet said. "I think some small part of him has accepted this but he'll never admit it."

"I would **hope** he'd accept it. He's going to separate in about a couple of decaorns." Ironhide poured a container of warm water over the sparkling drowning him. Orion spit out water and blinked, looking up at Ironhide with an expression of extreme distaste.

Ratchet and Ironhide grinned then Ironhide lifted him out and onto a warmed towel, wrapping it around the infant until only his little face was showing. Walking toward the couch, they both sat as Ironhide turned Orion to face his ada. "How about some more of your story? Last time we heard it Prime and Prowl were a coupla virgins, Jazz was havin' to be pried loose from a doorjamb and you were sexy."

Ratchet chuckled as he look at the sparkling. "Will we be corrupting his morals if he hears this?"

"Nah. This is great literature and we need him exposed to the best. Right?" Ironhide looked at the little face peering out of the white towel. It grinned at him. "See? He agrees."

Ratchet, mesmerized by how cute his sparkling was sat a moment, then raised the datapad. He scrolled to the relevant part and began reading.

"Okay, Prime … Prowl … tell me about your relationship," the sexy and wise doctor asked of the two sweet but completely clueless mechs sitting side by side holding servos and looking like they were waiting for the principal to come out and wack them with a paddle.

Prowl and Prime looked at each other then Prowl looked away, demure in manner and embarrassed of talking about 'you know … that.' It fell to Prime. "We have been courting for about nine million years. I consider Prowl my pre-bonded bond."

"I see," Ratchet considered. "Prowl?"

Prowl blushed. "I agree with Prime." Then he tee-hee'd like a Japanese school girl.

"So you never really interfaced before. In nine million years. Ever."

Both frowned. "What does that mean, Ratchet?" they both asked in unison.

Ratchet swallowed. Hard. "Uh …"

"Prime wants to read this. I told him I'd make sure he does," Ironhide said with a big grin that was eerily echoed by a sparkling in his lap.

"Nothing like pressure, Ironhide," Ratchet said with a grin.

"Where does the Mom Van come in? And what about Bumblebee and Wheeljack?"

Ratchet scrolled up to find Bumblebee and Wheeljack. "I have them in Med Bay with the sexy doctor putting Wheeljack together again."

"Read that part," Ironhide said.

"They got to the Med Bay where Wheeljack was placed on a berth. That is, his body was. His helm and his left leg were placed on a table nearby."

"Don't worry, 'Jack. I'll put you back together," the valiant doctor said.

Bumblebee, his agitated and very much sparked little missus stood nearby sagging against a wall, all fifteen of his sparklings walking around inside his big gut. "How is he, Doctor?" Bumblebee asked with a yawn.

"He'll make it, Bee," Ratchet said pulling out a tube of epoxy and a roll of duct tape. "Won't take but a minute to put him back together."

"Take your time," Mirage said appearing out of nowhere. "Bee is mine."

Wheeljack's helm rolled around on the tray it was sitting in to look at the two, Bumblebee and Mirage who were necking at the door. " **What the frag**?" he demanded.

 **"Yeah! What the frag!"** Jazz descended into the room, lowering himself from the ceiling where he’d been concealed. " **Bumblebee is mine**!"

" **NO HE'S NOT**!"

Everyone turned around to watch Trailbreaker, Hound, Ultra Magnus, Springer, Red Alert and half a dozen slaggin' mini-cons come through the door at the same time. " **THE FRAG**!" they all said in unison. Then everyone looked at Bumblebee.

Listing to one side, his peds swollen and his gut sagging with fifteen sparklings that oddly enough looked like everyone in the room but Wheeljack, Bumblebee shrugged. " **Frag the lot of you!** "

"Apparently you have, you little slagger," Ironhide said pausing in the doorway, just a **little** put out that Bumblebee had never put out for him.

At that point, it devolved into a brawl. The mini-cons bit every ankle they could find, half of them were punted into the next dimension. Jazz as he was trying to punch an invisible Mirage punched himself in the face. Everyone fought everyone else except the sexy doctor and the mom van who stood in the doorway and took bets.

"Who won?" Ironhide asked, shifting Orion who had fallen asleep. He settled him against his shoulder..

"Why, the reader, of course, Ironhide," Ratchet said with a grin.

  
  


Chapter 158

  
  


-0-Base Administration Building, Conference Room D

Warren Roberts sat at the head of the table, his two aides near the back in chairs, their laptops and note pads to the ready. Sitting in the hot seat was Tim Bolton. He was angry and slouched in his chair with a look of hot defiance on his face.

"Tell me, Mr. Bolton … what exactly **were** you doing during the time frame of the hit-and-run?"

Bolton shrugged. "Nothing. Drinking beer and watching the game."

"What game was that?"

It was silent a moment, then Bolton shrugged. "Don't recall. Was a while back."

Roberts leaned forward regarding Bolton with a hard stare. "You were trespassing on legitimate embassy territory. The Autobots can hold you forever and we can't do a thing about it. How do you like living in their brig?"

Bolton shifted as a mean expression formed on his face. "Daniels owes me. He'll get me out. His grandpa is some kind of official in the government."

"His family can't force your release. I'm aware he's already made the calls and they tried. The Autobots have refused. What you have before you is endless days, maybe even the rest of your life in their brig or you can tell me about the hit-and-run."

Bolton leaned forward meeting Roberts eye levelly. "What we have here is a bullshitter trying to fool a bullshitter. Nice try. I'm going to put my money on that little bastard, Daniels. He'll get me out of here."

"Or what?" Roberts asked.

Bolton leaned back smiling slightly. "He'll get me out."

"No, he won't," Roberts replied. "But I'm going to give you my card," he said nodding to an aide who rose to hand it to Bolton. "When you get tired of living underground call me. Or maybe a man of resolve like you is the wrong road to take."

Bolton looked at him, a momentary falter in his smirk. "What do you mean?"

"Seth Thomas is next. He isn't as hardcore as you. I don't think he'd like the idea of depending upon Daniels for his future. I'll talk to him."

Bolton sat up straighter with a look of cold fury on his face. "Thomas doesn't know anything."

"We'll see," Roberts said sitting back to relax. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Bolton. We're leaving this afternoon. You have until three o'clock to change your mind. Good day."

A soldier standing nearby walked over and took Bolton's arm pulling him to his feet. They walked to the door and down the corridor to wait by an outside doorway. Inferno who was sunning himself as he waited smiled, then picked up Bolton. "Thank you, Marty."

Sergeant Marty Wilson nodded. "No problem, Inferno."

With that, Marty took custody of Seth Thomas and watched as Inferno walked away holding Tim Bolton like he was a rag doll. Thomas who looked pale and edgy listened as Bolton screamed at him all the way across the lot to keep his trap shut, then followed Wilson inside for his turn on the hot plate.

-0-The prodigal returns

Bluestreak stepped off of Cosmos tugging along his weapons and duffel bag. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker, both of them waiting swooped him, making sure he was hugged and kissed adequately as well as relieving him of his gear. Smiling and laughing, chatting and catching up, they walked to the hangar together.

"How is everyone?" Bluestreak asked with a servo in each twin's free one.

"The hearing officials are leaving today. They'll file the report on the hit-and-run," Sideswipe said. "I like them. They seem no nonsense. And Prowl thinks they'll make the Thomas guy crack."

"Good," Bluestreak said punching in their door lock key, then they stepped inside. They would remain there all afternoon.

-0-Ironhide and Son

They walked in their circuit checking everything, showing the flag. It was secure and quiet, the base going through its normal routine. The Aerialbots that weren't on assignment on the rescue mission were sunning on the tarmac. Cosmos had just lifted off to go back to Autobot City carrying a number of things including that rotation on the duty roster.

He came upon the bench out front and sat, settling his sparkling on his lap. They watched the jeeps and hummers come and go, endless honks and waves that were met with endless smiles and waves back. Soldiers walking here and there stopped by, smiling at Orion and exchanging news with Ironhide.

The femmes who came out for a break ran across the tarmac to liberate the sparkling from Ironhide's lap, hugging and kissing him as he passed around the circle. Jessie who hugged him tightly looked at Ironhide. "This is the cutest sparkling I ever saw, Ironhide. When will Prowl get one?"

"Soon, I hope," Ironhide said. "I can't get with grabbing range of that mech without losing my sparkling."

"I heard," Jessie said snickering. "Ratchet told me. I don't think the base has enough sparklings. When are you and Ratchet having a date night so we can take care of this little cutie?"

"Date night? What's that?" Ironhide asked with a grin.

So they told him.

-0-Roberts and Thomas

Seth Thomas sat in the chair tense and wary. Roberts studied him then decided to go for broke.

"Mr. Thomas, I know that you, Bolton and Daniels don't regard the Autobot Embassy as legitimate but I assure you that our government does. Our President has had to direct the Secretary of State to write a number of formal and official apology letters to the Prime of Cybertron for offenses committed against his sovereign territory by our citizens, that is, the mercs that work here for Daniels. I wish I could convey to you how irritated those two people are."

Thomas swallowed hard as he paled slightly. He didn't speak but he was listening.

"I want to know today what happened at that hit-and-run. I don't want any more bullshit. I want the truth."

Thomas, wavering, looked at him tensely. "And if I do what happens to me?"

"You want a deal? I can't guarantee you anything. I wasn't given that option. But I will speak to the proper authorities that you were helpful. As it is, you'll stay in the Autobot brig until they decide to let you go unless you talk. I guarantee that before I go someone will talk. It might as well be you."

Thomas leaned back considering his options. Then he leaned forward again. "I want your word that you'll speak for me."

Roberts nodded. "Go on. Give me a reason."

Thomas deflated, sighing softly as he did. Then he decided to lie and save himself. "Bolton and I were drunk and driving around. Bolton was driving and heading down the beach. He saw those two alien kids and decided to run them down. Said Daniels would be very happy and pay him a lot of money to cause that kind of trouble."

"And you? What did you do?" Roberts asked quietly.

"I saw him start for them and I freaked out. I wanted to jump out but I was too drunk. I just yelled and hit him in the arm. Before he could drive over them two Autobots jumped out of nowhere and grabbed the kids. We drove past and there was a slamming on the back of the hummer. One of them shot us."

"What happened then?"

"We drove off passing a bunch of them running out of their hangar. They didn't look at us. They were armed and heading for the beach. So we drove off and dumped the hummer, then came back to the barracks."

"Bolton drove."

Thomas nodded his head. "He tried to run down little kids. He's a crazy fucker. He'll do anything for money."

"He received payment."

"Yes," Thomas said, "from Daniels. I think he got the cash from his grandpa."

Warren sat back considering the idea that the Majority Leader of the Senate and someone with Presidential ambitions should be paying money to mercenaries for trying to murder children. It turned his stomach. He leaned forward. "My aide is going to give you a pad and pen. Write it down. All of it. Details, Mr. Thomas. Then you will sign your name and we will have it witnessed by the base commander and the base chaplain. If you leave anything out we’re over. Understood?"

Thomas nodded, taking both into hand. "Do I get out of their brig? Can I leave with you?"

"It's not my call. I can only speak with the Prime and it's all up to him."

Thomas sighed then gave his attention to the writing. As he did Warren arose and walked to the door, asking the orderly assigned to facilitate communications between his staff and Fulton to call a meeting with the base commander as soon as possible. He also asked that Prime or his authorized representative be present. Then he walked outside to chat the time away with Inferno.

-0-On the way home

They had met up, complements in the shuttles that were coming shifting with those in the shuttles meeting up. The refugees were resettled among the ships that arrived as well, the most in need of medical attention, the oldest and the youngest given priority as they spread out the tightly packed refugees. Three orphans were also shifted to Silverbolt to be tended to by medics.

Mechanics shifted vessels, working to repair systems overtaxed by the trip and all were greeted by the newcomers with joy, questions, anticipation and hopefulness. It was a warm moment and by the time they all turned around to head back they had formed a battle configuration. One could never be too careful.

-0-Nast

The chaplain and medic sat with Nast, the grieving man venting his anger and frustration. The medic prescribed him a sedative but he refused it. Finding he’d done all he could, the medic left leaving the chaplain alone with Nast. They sat together leaning against the wall and chatted softly, Nast venting his hatred and the chaplain letting him. It would be a long afternoon for both.

-0-Warren, Fulton and Prime

They met in the communications hangar, the two men waiting on the platform to watch as Prime walked inside. Warren who was impressed from day one by the dignity, intelligence and general charisma of the Prime wondered what it was like to see the world from 28 or 29 feet off the ground.

"Mr. Warren, Colonel," Prime acknowledged in his warm baritone. "You require my attention."

"Yes sir," Warren said. "I have a confession from Seth Thomas regarding the hit-and-run."

"You do," Prime said. "What did he tell you?"

"Lies mostly," Warren said with a smile. "He was there but he says that Tim Bolton, the other man was driving. I believe all of the details are exact but for that shift of blame. He also said that the bounty they both got for this was fronted by Daniels' grandfather, the Senate Majority Leader."

Prime nodded as a grim expression formed on his face. He glanced at Fulton who stepped forward. "I've briefed Mr. Warren on our situation and the delicate matter coming up. He’s agreed to hold off this report and discussion about it with anyone else until he receives the all clear from us."

"I believe we're all working from the same page, sir," Warren said. "I want to remove this threat and so do you. We can work together here. I'm prepared to be your State Department-Justice Department liaison when the trap is sprung. I find that all of my cases, and I’m the officer in charge of all the investigations between you and Daniels … I believe they dovetail neatly with what you're planning in your attempts to take down Shockwave."

"I agree," Prime said. "I am concerned about who would know this. I would prefer to limit this to us and the N.E.S.T. and Autobot teams that are directly involved. I would hope you will not speak of this to anyone else that is part of your purview until we give you the all clear."

"I would do that," Roberts said. "I'm also prepared to be useful to you in any capacity I can be for the duration of this matter. It's painful to me as a professional person and as an American to see this sort of thing happening in the government I've worked for and served for nearly forty years. I'm at your disposal."

"Thank you, Mr. Roberts. If you could make arrangements with Colonel Fulton it will keep the lines of communication clear," Prime said sending a file of the conversation to Prowl internally.

"Done deal," Roberts replied nodding grimly. "I just want to be there when they arrest the Majority Leader of the Senate."

"You and me both," Fulton said with a grin.

Prime nodded as well.

-0-That afternoon in Med Bay

"He doesn't like his trap door messed with."

"Who does?" Ratchet replied watching as Ironhide cleaned up and shut off Orion's 'trap door' aka poop chute.

"He sure can squeal," Ironhide said turning his sparkling over to sit him on his tiny aft. The sparkling, furious at the indignity of having his outflow taken in such a manner reached out to swat at Ironhide.

Ratchet and Ironhide froze, looking at him with big optics. Orion for his part was looking at them both with narrowed ones. They glanced at each other, then Ironhide took Orion's little servo and gently slapped it. "No," he said firmly.

Orion who was looking at him leaned forward to slap him again.

Ratchet and Ironhide glanced at each other as they shifted with anxiety on their peds.

Ironhide who was not entirely clear on what to do took Orion's tiny servo and slapped it gently again. "No," he said with a voice not quite so firm as before.

Everyone stared at each other, Ratchet's optics wide with surprise, Ironhide's wide with tears and Orion's narrow with fury. Then he fell onto his back, clenched his little servos and howled.

Loudly.

Ironhide stepping back looked at Ratchet with genuine fear. "What do I do now?"

"You can either let him lay there like a brat or you can pick him up and be the old dad he needs," Ratchet said as unclear as Ironhide but faking it better.

Ironhide reached for the baby but Orion tensed and yelled louder. Ironhide stepped back. "Your turn."

Ratchet who was unnerved but resolute reached for the baby quickly and put him against his shoulder before he could move. Holding him tightly, Orion wailed, then finally stopped as he stared at Ironhide with the greatest, most intense expression of betrayal and angst his little face could form.

Ironhide who was spark broken looked back at his sparkling, his optics filling as he did. "He hates me."

"No," Ratchet said. "He's just being a brat."

"Our sparkling isn't a brat, Ratchet."

"He just was. Our sparkling is not going to be a brat, Ironhide. You must be firm with him. Patting his servo like that when he slaps at you was the right thing to do. He just pitched a fit when he didn't get his way, that's all."

"Can I hold him again or will he hold a grudge?" Ironhide asked, his voice low and pitiful.

Ratchet melting at his misery smiled. "You better toughen up, Ironhide. Wait until he's the size of the twins. You better teach him to be a good mech before then. He might punch you in the face instead of slapping at you like a sparkling."

Ironhide nodded then held out his servos but Orion wasn't having it. He looked away and clung to Ratchet. Ironhide with his expression equally as stricken turned away, too, wiping at his optics.

Ratchet looked at the sparkling in his arms and the one turned away then shook his head. "What am I going to do with the two of you? I want you both to play nicely. Ironhide."

He turned with a sniffle. Ratchet took the sparkling and handed it out to Ironhide who took him.

Orion immediately began to wail.

Ratchet then leaned into Orion's face. "No," he said firmly. "Stop your wailing."

Orion who stopped abruptly at Ratchet's tone leaned back against his old dad, his chin quivering as coolant rolling down his little cheeks. Looking up at Ironhide, he raised his arms. Ironhide turned him pressing him against his cheek, his own expression deeply relieved.

"Show him who's boss, Ironhide," Ratchet said as they walked for the door.

They continued outside moving to the bench to sit, two black Autobots sniffling and settling themselves. Ironhide patted his sparkling settling him in the crook of his arm. Orion looked at him with sad little optics and Ironhide returned the look. "We all know who the boss is don't we, Spud."

Orion cuddled down into Ironhide's embrace as Ironhide's spark circled Saturn with joy.

  
  


Chapter 159

  
  


-0-Early morning a couple days later

The jet taxied forward coming to a halt before a small group of officials that were waiting. Inside were the members of the Senate Committee that oversaw the special relationship based on treaty agreements between the United States and the Autobots. Senator Andrea Hoxley acting on an offhand remark made between herself and Ratchet had arranged to have a personal visit of two days duration at Diego Garcia.

She’d invited all the members of the committee and secured eight acceptances. Just before they nailed down the arrangements for the visit Weaver and Brinks asked to be included. Instead of nine Senators there would be eleven who would be staying for two days getting the tour. They would have opportunities to see what the base and her personnel did to protect the world from Decepticon tyranny.

No one was happy with them being there, particularly on the military side but they had to make due in the name of public relations and helping allies help them. Andrea Hoxley and most of the committee were among their strongest supporters.

Fulton and his staff met the plane and took the guests to their quarters in the visiting VIP barracks which just happened to be next to Daniels' own. Lunch would follow, then they’d be taken on tours before meeting up with Ratchet at the door to the Autobot Embassy.

Ratchet for his part was pulling a shift in Ops Center giving advice and analyzing information from the rescue teams. He watched the monitor that showed the dignitaries and considered what it would mean having three deeply negative members of the committee on base.

It was going to be interesting.

-0-The night before

"What are you doing, Ratchet?"

"Cleaning this place up," Ratchet replied as he picked up a bit of Ironhide's slag.

Ironhide was nearby sitting at the table working on a gun. Orion was propped up by pillows on the couch. The little mech was watching both with his binky firmly in place as his tiny bright blue optics followed them around.

"Why?"

Ratchet turned to look at him with a shake his head. "Because I think we owe it to the sparkling not to live in crap and if the visitors tomorrow come over to the quarters I don't want them to think we like slag all over the place."

"What slag? I took everything to the locker."

"And brought some of it back."

"Are you saying I'm messy?" A bemused optic fixed on a white aft slagger who was chucking things into a small pile by the door.

"Yes," Ratchet said not skipping a beat.

"Where?" Ironhide asked more to be devilish than for information. He knew he was messy. He just didn't care. There were more important things in life than cleanliness. A good munition, a feisty bond, a mellow sparkling and the love and admiration of his fellows was all that he needed. He was a mech that had it all.

Ratchet looked at him with a smirk. "So you wanna play this game? Look around here and tell me where and how I keep my stuff."

Ironhide glanced up from the gun sight he was tooling to look here and there, then back to the gray chevron of his most dearly beloved one, the one that was quivering with barely suppressed battle lust. "I don't know what you mean."

"Look over the couch. Look at the shelf."

Ironhide did and grinned. "That slag belongs to Orion."

"You're teaching him to be a slob at a very tender age, Ironhide. It won’t bode well for our future."

"Those are his toys."

"Those are shell cartridges."

"Empty ones. He likes to roll them and some day he can count them. Lots of possibilities for his education." Ironhide considered his own shell casing toys made by his Appa Raptor once upon a time. He preferred them over his family's expensive ones. But then, he preferred sitting in boxes to toys half the time. He was a complicated mech.

Ratchet grinned. "Thinking ahead are you?"

"Always," Ironhide said rather triumphantly.

"Well, think on this. When the senators come by and they might, how will I explain that I allow the sparkling to play with ordinance canisters?"

"Just tell them he's military. That seems to carry some weight on this world," Ironhide said leaning back to grin broadly.

Ratchet grinned back then tossed a duffel bag at Ironhide. "You have an answer for everything."

"I try, Ratchet, I try," he said. He glanced at his sparkling who was stuffing a ped in his mouth. "That sparkling is one gifted hombre."

"Hombre?" Ratchet asked pausing to admire his sparkling's joie de vivre.

"Clint Eastwood."

"Ah. A role model, I suppose," Ratchet said turning back to his cleaning.

"Of course. When you're through there, play misty for me," Ironhide said looking at Ratchet's aft through his scope.

Ratchet snorted. "I don't know what you're talking about but I bet it has something to do with porn."

Ironhide looked at Ratchet sharply, gazing with a tinge of surprise and amusement. "You think I need porn?"

Ratchet looked at him curiously. "You don't? What kind of soldier **are** you, Ironhide?"

He put the scope down then rose to pull Ratchet into his arms. He leered slightly, a bit of a Satanic effect with his finials. "A chaos bringer, sparker of wild aft medicos and all around mentor of little and big sparklings. Decepticons **fear** me. Mechs step off the **curb** when they see me."

"You forgot your energon knives under the couch," Ratchet said swaying in Ironhide's embrace.

"I'll take it to the armory right away," Ironhide said. "Where was I?"

"Curb … fear … wild afts … mechs trembling when they see ya," Ratchet said with a chuckle.

"Oh, right," Ironhide said. "I fear nothing and no one. Even Starscream trembles at my name."

"If he remembers it," Ratchet said gazing at Ironhide's handsomely comical face. "Poor Starscream. He's one damaged mech."

"Got him out of battle alive. Got a lot to be thankful for. I was gunning for him. I intended to get him, too," Ironhide said quietly. "But that changes nothing. I don't need porn. I got you."

"I'm the anti-porn?" Ratchet asked as he nuzzled Ironhide's neck.

"Something like that," Ironhide said grinning broadly. "And if all else fails there's all those medical manuals you have in the backroom of Med Bay."

"Did they give you any ideas?" Ratchet asked with a smirk.

"None I'd try with him around," Ironhide said nodding to the sparkling who was now trying to put both peds in his pie hole. They stared at him mesmerized, admiring his technique, then Ironhide remembered something. "How about a date night when things slow down around here?"

"What's a date night?" Ratchet said savoring the moment as Ironhide's big hands explored his aft.

"We get a babysitter … the femmes over at the HQ volunteered so you and I can go out alone and do something together. Apparently, you have to do this at night."

"What would we do?" Ratchet asked with genuinely intrigue at the concept.

Ironhide shrugged. "Go sit on the beach. Frag under a tree. Anything."

"We'd have to time it so that the satellites don't get an eyeful and we end up on the teevee," Ratchet said smirking. "We can't let others see. Don't want to break sparks all over the place."

Ironhide chuckled. "That's true. Only so many chaos bringers and sparkers of medicos in this world. Can't let the poseurs get out of hand."

"Nope," Ratchet said kissing Ironhide long and slow.

Watching them from the couch, frowning more and more, Orion chirped a loud abrupt sparkling word. They jolted then looked at him. He was lying tipped off his pillows, a ped in each hand and a frown on his face.

"What's with the sparkling?" Ratchet asked.

"Don't know. Sort of listing to one side there," Ironhide said, then he turned back to what they were doing.

A ginormous chirp greeted that action.

"I wish I spoke sparkling. I think he doesn't approve of kissing," Ratchet said leaning against Ironhide in contentment.

"His loss," Ironhide said with a grin. "Better get used to it, sparkling. Your old ada and I have a thing."

"We do," Ratchet said hugging Ironhide tightly. "We sure do."

-0-The Senators

They settled into their quarters, then followed an aide to the mess hall where N.E.S.T. soldiers and regular army including Colonel Fulton waited for them. Lunch was pleasant as they chatted and ate together. When the time came to go they walked across the tarmac toward the Autobot Embassy hangar complex.

Andrea Hoxley was as happy as could be, her anticipation at meeting more Autobots and seeing the facility only exceeded by her anticipation at seeing Ambassador Ratchet once again. As they reached the invisible line of Autobot Embassy territory, a tall white and red figure stepped out of the doorway pausing to watch them with a sweet smile on his sweet face.

"Hello, Senator Hoxley. I'm so happy you could come." Ratchet grinned down at them from 25 feet.

"Hello, Ambassador Ratchet. I'm so **terribly** delighted to be here."

It was on.

TO BE CONTINUED IN DIEGO DIARIES PART TWO

This story follows in part two. I am going to add it 25 parts at a time because I'm editing and expanding it. Keep this space bookmarked. ;)


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